


No Rest For The Wicked

by vierundachzig



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Dragons, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Magic, Original Character(s), Original House Targaryen Characters - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Original Character, Pre-Canon, Romance, The Dance of the Dragons | Aegon II Targaryen v. Rhaenyra Targaryen Era, anti rhaenyras bastard sons i guess, i really do not like them sorry, they also only play a role in the first few chapters and the rest is basically strong free
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 54,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vierundachzig/pseuds/vierundachzig
Summary: 120 AC - Driftmark is mourning two children and the island is shadowed with dragons. On the shore beneath the cliffs of High Tide Castle a bastard daughter has an encounter that would change the course of her life. In the stables a boy sits himself on a dragon. During a council a family clashes and a creates a rift that will never come back together.This is my take on the decade before the dance of the dragons, if another person from an old Valyrian family was involved. The focus lays on a character that is neither a green nor a black but both at the same time.
Relationships: Aegon II Targaryen/Helaena Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen / Original Character, Alicent Hightower/Viserys I Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen/Laena Velaryon, Daemon Targaryen/Original Female Character(s), Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen
Comments: 58
Kudos: 8





	1. The unexpected Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work in the ASOIAF fandom and my first Fanfic written in English as well. 
> 
> Reviews and any kind of construtive critisism are very welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished Fire & Blood in a day and could not stop thinking about it so I kinda came up with this story and since I have nothing better to do during this pandemic I decided to write it all down. I have already written twenty chapters but need to edit them with time so I think I will update about twice a week or so. Sorry if there are any grammatical/ language issues - english is not my mother tongue.
> 
> Also please be respectful, I know my main character is not liked much by this fandom but to me it was one of the most interesting characters and I just kinda made up more than that was mentioned in canon.

Driftmark 120 AC 

The wind was slight on the beach, her feet felt the warm sand she was walking on. Vaenya smelled the summer air, it was fresh with a hint of salt and everything the ocean had swept on the shore. 

She had never been on this Island, she had never been in Westeros at all until her mother decided to celebrate her tenth nameday with her father, or rather as they were invited by him. That’s why more than three turns of the moon ago she sailed across the narrow sea. 

Vaenya had spent almost her entire life in Pentos together with her mother and elder brother Vaenar; all three protected by the Magister who took them in as well as her Mothers ancient Valyrian name. 

Pentos was ruled by the magisters who had significantly more power than the city's so-called prince. Growing up in Magister Nestions mansion with the sea and its gardens gave her the promise that there could be no harm outside these walls.

She did learn about her Family's history, about Valyria and its doom, about the free cities; of which she had seen most of already. Vaenya also learned about Westeros, the continent on the other side of the very sea she spent days looking at. A Maester who studied in Oldtown taught her about the First Men, Andals and Dornish, how Aegon and his Queens conquered the land on their Dragons. Those lessons have been her favourite. Stories about the Doom and the slow demise of her family only made her sad and longing for a past she wished to have lived through, but the Conquest sparked something in her. A promise that the Dragonlords of old Valyria were still a frightening force this day. 

Dragons had fascinated her from the day her mother had given her a wooden toy dragon. Her brother Vaenar was far less interested in these beasts, after all he had seen one for himself before Vaenya was even born. Although he was just a toddler back then he still feared the blood red dragon of his father ascending from the skies. Their father was notorious in the free cities, having made both acquaintances and enemies on the shores of western Essos. Even if the war in the Steptstones was fought years ago, the children of Prince Daemon Targaryen avoided talking about their father with others. Although this was rather pointless, the children born by his former paramour might not have taken the name of his house, but all the nobles of Pentos and beyond knew who sired the two children of Lady Taeleste Belaerys. With their families gold, power and influence however dared none of them to speak it aloud. 

Her father had married the daughter of the Lord of the Tides and was thus living at the seat of house Velaryon in Blackwater Bay. Vaenya liked her stepmother Lady Laena. Shortly after she had married her father, the two of them came flying to Pentos to seek refuge at the Prince of Pentos, a friend he had made during years of war. 

This was when Vaenya saw dragons for the first time just shortly after her fifth name day. Her fathers Caraxes with scales the colour of the blood spilled during its riders conquest. And Lady Laenas impressive mount Vhagar. The dragon of Aegon's conquest, ridden by the warrior queen Visenya herself. Caraxes was fast, lean and mean and had scared Vaenya behind her mothers skirts. But she couldn’t hide her amazement of the gigantic reptiles. 

“They aren’t that terrible when you ride on their back.” 

It was Lady Laena who reached her hand towards her. 

“Maybe you want to join me and see Pentos from above?”

Her mother snarled at the thought of her daughter flying on a dragon only accompanied by her former lover's new wife. 

“Of course only if your Lady Mother allows it.” 

Laena glanced at Taeleste with a worried yet honest look on her face, but Vaenya already took Laena’s hand and walked towards Vhagar. The riding chains were secured tightly around her body and the rider signaled her dragon to push itself off the ground. They circled the city trice, on their last round they made a steep descent above the bay of Pentos. As she jumped off Vhagars back onto the ground she decided that dragon riding was the best thing to ever happen to her and from this moment on having her own dragon became her biggest wish. She could stop talking about how the wind felt in her silver hair and how her heart raced at every turn they made. Although she grew up with all the luxuries of the known world, neither her mother nor Magister Nestion could grant her this wish of hers. As of now only the Targaryens kept Dragons, all other former Dragonlords either lost their beasts or their own lives during the century of blood. Her Father never formally married her mother and thus their two children kept their mothers name. Not that her mother thought of this as a bad thing. She neither wanted to be the wife to an infamous, roguish prince nor wanted she live in the eesterosi court of Kings Landing surrounded by all the capital's snakes and spiders. Afterall Taeleste was rather glad that her youngest child would not try to claim a dragon as her own. 

* * *

  
Five years later everything was different however. After the birth of her two half sisters, her father and Lady Laena returned to Driftmark. Vaenya and her brother still received messages and presents for their name day celebrations but they wouldn’t see a dragon in the skies of Pentos again. So Vaenya was even happier when she heard about the invitation to Driftmark. 

Lady Laena was pregnant once more. Her father Corlys Velaryon knew Vaenyas mother Taeleste, after all the Belaerys family had ties to the trade from Braavos to Lys and even Asshai. They were welcomed at High Tide, although Lord Corlys own wife, a Princess of the realm was not as impressed by the visit of her godson's former paramour and children. Taeleste and Princess Rhaenys did not exchange more than the required courtesies, and those in a rather cold manner. Still Vaenya liked the Island and the castle and of course the presence of the dragons. While she could not ride on one of their backs again, she could still admire them from a safe distance. 

Almost four moons have passed since their arrival. Lady Laena was dead, so was her child. And recently her brother Lord Laenor died as well. Laenor was married to Vaenya’s cousin Princess Rhaenyra, daughter of the king, princess of Dragonstone and heiress to the Iron Throne of Westeros. The sudden deaths had prolonged their stay at Driftmark and they had planned their departure after the funeral of Laenor Velaryon. While he was alive Laenor was the future Consort of the next Queen. The funeral therefore called for the attendance of the realm's highest lords and nobles as well as the King and his family. 

They said that Driftmark became the second Dragonstone so full of dragons was the seat of the Lord of the Tides. The ancient valyrian holdfast Dragonstone and former seat of house Targaryen with its big Volcano that was the ideal breeding ground for the family’s dragons. Not that Vaenya could draw any comparison, she’d never seen Dragonstone herself. But never had she seen that many dragons fly in the sky. 

House Targaryen was in big numbers and had the most dragons and dragonriders since they set sail for Westeros. Most of those now arrived in time for the funeral. Apart from his eldest daughter Rhaenyra, King Viserys I had four more children, three of them dragonriders on formidable beats. Princess Rhaenyra herself had three sons with dragons of their own, although none of those had mounted theirs. To Vaenyas jealousy her younger half sister Baela had her own small dragon that hatched inside her crib as a babe. Her twin sister Rhaenyra had not been so fortunate, as her hatchling died shortly after breaking from its shells. 

Most of the family's dragons were now flying in the skies, enjoying some freedom outside the dragonpit of Kings Landing. Vaenya thought of the great Vhagar who now, riderless, lay on the ground perhaps still mourning her deceased rider. It had hurt her heart quite a bit, but no one was allowed to even just approach her. 

The sea was the same as in Pentos she thought. But the air smelled different, the sand felt strangely soft and the roar of dragons pained her ears. The castle was cold and damp, and she couldn’t see the sad faces of grieving nobles and servants any longer. That’s how she found herself on this lonely shore beneath the cliffs of castle High Tide. 

She didn’t hear them coming but as Vaenya turned her head she saw three boys running towards her. All three had brown hair and eyes and looked rather strong and tall for their age. They seemed younger than her but the displeasure on their faces made her flinch. 

“What are you doing here servant girl?” 

The oldest of the three yelled at her. While she understood and spoke the westerosi common tongue well, she had always been more comfortable with the pentoshi valyrian she spoke on a daily basis. As she tried to explain to those boys that she was not a servant she was only able to say a quiet “ _no_ ” thick with a foreign accent. This of course made them only more suspicious. Was this a private beach? Was she even allowed to be here? 

“You’re one of Daemon's bastards aren’t you?” 

Again it was the oldest who spoke to her, this time he was slightly amused. But Vaenya recognized the temper in his voice. She did not know what he meant, what that word meant. Her Maester did not teach her this one. 

“I do not not what your problem is, I am not doing anything. Could you please leave me alone?” 

As Vaenya wanted to turn and walk away she felt a rock hitting her shoulder. Another one of the young boys started throwing rocks at her. Shortly the youngest, he can’t be older than three name days, started to hit her as well. They were blocking the way to the stairs back up to the castle, and she couldn’t run all the way along the rocky shore towards the next possible path. 

“Would you children stop that.” 

“Someone like you should treat us with respect.” The oldest answered, throwing another pebble that hit her temple.

Suddenly she felt the pain running through her. Touching her skin, she luckily felt no blood pouring out, her head however still hurt quite a lot. 

“You morons! How dare you! I shall tell my father and he will punish you stupid little stable boys!” 

Unable to hold back the tears she turned away. These stupid boys might have made her cry but she would not let them see her like this.

“Does it bring you joy hitting girls?” 

A voice behind the three yelled angrily. She could see another boy standing beneath the cliffs. He had silver hair just as herself as well as purple eyes, but his hair had a goldshine to it and his eyes beamed in a bright violet as if they had a fire within. 

He must be of the royal family, she thought. He did not look any less angry than the three brown haired boys but at least he made them stop. 

“What do you care, Aemond? This one is running around barefoot like a madwoman in the presence of princlings of the realm.” 

Once more the eldest of them spoke, while he was wildly pointing at her. 

“You better stop or I will tell my father the King. Or should I tell the Rogue Prince that you are throwing rocks at his daughter?” 

At the mention of the King the boy's eye twitched and he turned towards his brothers before running back up the cliffs. Not without shouting plenty of course words to the both of them. 

“Thank you for scaring those away.” 

Vaenya was thankful and walked towards him before realizing what he had said. He called the King his father so he must be a prince. Remembering how her mother told her how important it is to be respectful in the presence of how her so called _Betters_ , she quickly she tried to curtsy at her best effort. 

“Your grace.” She stumbled. 

“Prince Aemond, my Lady. We did not yet have the pleasure to meet.'' he smiled at her, “You haven’t met our cousins yet I suppose?” 

He was amused by the confusion on her face. 

“Those were my half-sister Rhaenyra’s brute.” 

There was hatred in his voice and his eyes glistened with something sinister. She decided not to ask him why he spoke so hateful of them, although she could not think of any good deeds of the young princelings after they had hit her with rocks for no good reason than her existing here. 

“You should not cry, especially in front of these imbeciles. It makes one look weak.” 

Ashamed that he had noticed her tears she subtly wiped them away with the back of her hand. 

Trying to regain her composure she asked him, “What did they mean by that?“ 

„Excuse me?“

„They called me my father’s bastard. What does this mean?”

He snarled and looked in the direction the boys ran away. 

„As if they have any right to say this to you. They are nothing but bastards themselves“ 

„But what is a Bastard?“ 

Aemond looked at her as if she was simple. But assuming her accent he recognized that this was a mere misunderstanding of languages. 

„It’s when children are born out of wedlock. As for Rhaenyra’s sons, their father was not the late Laenor Velaryon“ 

Vaenya wondered how a boy of her age could know all these things. Especially since saying this out loud would be considered high treason and severely punished. According to her cousin the princelings were the sons of the Heir to the Throne. The eldest was to become King one day himself. 

"So I am a bastard as well?" She said more to herself than to the prince standing next to her. 

Aemond looked at her from head to toe. “You look very much like your father to me. “ 

She snapped the association with her father. It was true, she looked more like her father with the same silver hair and pale lilac eyes. Her brother had inherited her mothers raven black hair which ran in the Belaerys Family. It was shining with a silver gleam in the light, like the stars in contrast with the dark of the night sky, like the oily black stone that made out the ancient city of Asshai. After all that's where the Belaerys supposedly had their origin, long before they became Dragonlords in old Valyria. Vaenya knew that she reminded her mother the man she despised most. 

Aemond kept his stern look on her, taking her silence for offense. 

“I suppose being a bastard isn’t that much of a problem where you’re from.” 

They might have been cousins. But both knew how they were strangers who grew up much differently. But the amount of knowledge his boy had about her astonished Vaenya. Life at court must be boring enough they had to spend their time gossiping about strangers across the narrow sea.

“Your Grace.” She curtsied before turning away, about to walk back into the castle. 

“Lady Vaenya, wait!” It was the first time he called her by her name and it gave her a strangely warm feel inside. She kept her head down refusing to look him in his piercing eyes. 

“Your Grace?” 

“Would you mind keeping me company for a little longer? And please drop the titles, there is no one here to care if you call me your grace or not. Just call me Aemond.” he glanced sheepishly at her. 

The thought of staying here instead of turning back to the castle didn’t seem too awful at all. There were many things she preferred to the grim atmosphere that hung low over High Tide. As well as she did not want to encounter her missbehaved royal cousins at this moment. 

“Your Gra…. Aemond, as you wish. Please call me Vaenya, Lady is no title that belongs to me.” In truth her family was only called by these titles out of politeness as they arrived on Driftmark. 

“Walk with me then?”

She put her elbow into his and they strolled along the beach beneath the cliffs. With an asking look he pointed at her naked feet as she carefully avoided to step on sharp rocks. 

“Sandals would be full with sand by now and boots are either too warm or not practical in this terrain.” Her mind wandered to her richly decorated princess slippers that were made out of woven gold and silver treat and looked more than marvelous as long as she was sitting on an equally ornate divian. Magister Nestions mansion was placed directly at the Bay of Pentos and she had learned quickly that the best shoes for the sand were no shoes at all. 

“I heard you have been on Driftmark before these unfortunate events.” The question lingered in his remark. Vaenya explained how her Father had invited them for her tenth name day and how their visit was involuntarily extended due to two tragic deaths. Aemond glanced at her from the side. 

“I also recently turned ten, when was your name day dear cousin?” 

Her princeling cousin's name day celebration must have been a big affair in the capital, Vaenya thought to herself. She had never seen the Red Keep and could only imagine how it must have looked while it hosted festivities of this sort. 

“It was the twelfth day of the first moon of the year.” 

He had abruptly stopped and excitingly turned to her. “So was I, I was also born on the twelfths day of the first moon of the year 110 AC!” 

Vaenya was aware how Westeros counted the years differently than how she was used to it from the free cities. For these lands Aegon’s conquest was the start of a new time and thus everything was named either before or after the day the Dragon himself united the all the Kingdoms into one. For herself she had known to count the days after the Valyrian Doom as it was custom around the Free Cities. 

The thought that both her cousin and herself had been born on the same day with the narrow sea between them made her smile wildly. Mayhaps that’s why the two of them got along surprisingly well, although they were practically strangers not that long ago; it was as if they had a connection in a curious way. So they kept on walking alongside each other. The sun was not on its highest point when she decided to go to the beach but now it had moved significantly in the sky indicating how much time they had spent already. 

Slowly she got to know Aemond better. He had told her about life in court, about his siblings as well as his despised half-sister and her offspring and how all of them had dragons on their own already. They were all dragon riders or at least have claimed a dragon of their own, except for him. 

Vaenya was amused by his anger, yet she could understand him very well. She too always wished for a dragon of her own, was this not what their families were known for? It must have offended him deeply that he, as a prince, the son of the reigning King, was denied such a symbol of power. The dragon was the emblem of the Targarynes and they put themselves on the throne with those very beats. But the dragon egg that was placed in his crib only hatched into a wretched deformed stillborn. The court started talking and saw it as a bad omen for the young prince. That his siblings and nephews all bonded with healthy dragons was only pouring salt into his wound. 

However his Father, the King, had told them that after their departure from Driftmark they will set sail to Dragonstone and he could try to claim one of his own - if he was bold enough. This left a bitter taste on her tongue. No matter how friendly they were with each other, he was still a prince and she was only a foreign girl without a father - a bastard as they said. 

He realized how she went suddenly quiet despite his enthusiasm. “Then I will visit you in Pentos and take you with me on dragonback.” 

His assurance was more promising than realistic. Why would he even do thag? She was morning but a stranger he did not owe anything to. And even if he bonded with a hatchling it would need to take many years before he could mount it. If he remembered her by then it would be nothing like Laena taking her on her own great dragon and the joy she had never felt ever again. The memory of her late stepmother was still painful. 

“I was riding on Vhagar before.” Aemond surprisingly studied her face, “Lady Laena and my father had come to Pentos, she must have noticed how awestruck I was of Vhagar. So she bound me infront of her and showed me the Bay from above.” 

“She is magnificent isn’t she? I have seen her as we arrived, she’s chained inside the castle walls. Father suggested that I claim a hatchling or even an egg. But I know better than them, I know exactly what dragon would be fit for me!” he eagerly claimed. 

Vaenya was shocked by his outburst, she knew exactly why his parents would not let him anywhere near Vhagar. A dragon of her age was dangerous and unpredictable, even a Targaryen could not just sit on its back and claim it as a mount. And Aemond himself was only half Targaryen, as his mother was a Hightower and had not a drop of Valyrian blood in her. On top of that Vhagar has only just become riderless and was thus even more savage when a new rider wanted her as her mount. 

“She would roast you alive before you could even come close to her.” Vaenya was alarmed but tried to hide her fright.

She was aware that Aemond could sense fear and would use it against her. So she did her best to remain composed at his proclamation to have the biggest and oldest dragon of the Targaryens for himself. 

She let go of him and sat on a rock facing the sea, “That’s quite dangerous no matter how much of a dragon you think you are yourself. I can’t lose the only friend I had made on this Island to his own incompetence.” Calling him a friend was far stretched at this point, but it was true. 

The rest of the Targaryen family did not pay much attention to her. Mentioning him as her friend vanished the bitter expression off his face. Vaenya was still worried about his plans, but knew how this argument would lead to nothing. The sun began to set and she was aware how valuable their time alone beneath the cliffs was. 

To get her attention he threw a small pebble at her back. Appalled she turned only to see the wide grin on his face. 

“You got quite the nerve Prince, does it bring you joy to hit girls with rocks as well? Must be a terrible trait on your side of the family.” 

Amused he threw another small one in her direction, missing her arm just slightly. She now grabbed into the sand picking up rocks, careful to chose the smaller ones. Afterall she didn’t want to hurt him. That was what they became now, a prince and a bastard throwing rocks at each other. It brought them lots of joy whatsoever. 

Vaenya grabbed a rough dark stone to throw it at her opponent. Hitting the metal cuffs of his leather collar it broke open in two. From inside it had brought forth two shining pearls. Carefully Aemond picked them up to inspect them. 

“What a rare thing for an oyster to create two pearls. It is said to be a good omen.” Vaenya confirmed thoughtfully. 

“Take one then”, he handed her one of the magnificent white gleaming pearls. It felt cold and smooth in her hand. 

“I shall keep the other one.” he placed it carefully inside the pocket of his breeches. Vaenya kept holding hers in her hand, worried that she might lose it, as suddenly this small treasure was very important to her. 

“Come, we should go back inside. Father told me that we will all be having supper together this evening.” he took her arm and both climbed up the stairs back into the castle of High Tide. 


	2. A Sky full of Bronze

She had bathed and changed from the simple white linen dress, she wore on the beach, into an ornate long sleeved black dress made out of myrish lace. Staring into the mirror as she brushed out her hair, she inspected her face. At only ten years of age she had heard plenty of compliments praising her beauty. Vaenya never listened as those were simple curtsies expected to be said to a daughter of noble birth. To her, her eyes were cold and pale, her hair lacked shine unlesss she brushed it out longtime. Her nose was narrow and her chin sharp, her body was skinny and lanky. 

“Am I beautiful mother?” Vaenya asked her mother who was getting dressed with the help of a handmaid. 

Before she could answer her brother stepped into the chamber, having heard the question, “Are you this vain that you need constant assurance, sister?” 

Taeleste gave her son a humbling look and turned to her daughter, “There is so much to one than the beauty on our surface. What would we have left if the only beautiful things were those we would have to see?”

Of course this was an answer as only her mother could give her. Vaenya wasn’t sure why she suddenly questioned her appearance, but for whatever reason she wanted to look more than just presentable this evening. On top of her vanity desk stood a wooden box with the present Magister Nestion had given her for her name day. It was a long silver necklace with a huge sapphire hanging from it. The impressive jewel was surrounded by black pearls, making it not only stupidly expensive but also almost too heavy to wear it for long. It was lovely but at the moment it held little value to her, different to the small pearl she had placed next to the box. She thought of asking her mother to let it turn into a piece of jewelry she could wear. Looking into the mirror for one last time the sapphire gleamed back at her, shining almost white in the light of the fire. 

Vaenya sat right next to Aemond at the long table that was placed inside the great hall, in order to seat all of the guests. If this was King’s Landing and the supper would be held inside the Red Keep they would have been seated far away from each other. A Bastard, even a royal one, wasn’t to sit next to a prince. But for now the younger children were placed together on the other end of the table. Vaenya saw her mother in conversation with both Lord Velaryon and King Viserys. Next to her sat her older brother, Vaenar was four and ten and therefore allowed to sit with the older members of the family. 

During the Dinner she was able to talk to her other cousins. While she avoided the Velaryon priclings, she was rather fond of Aemonds siblings Helaena and Daeron. The latter could not stop talking about his dragon Tessarion he recently mounted for the first time. Much to the enjoyment of Vaenya and Helaena, Aemond kept quiet at his younger brother's remarks. Suspiciously quiet as Vaenya thought. She hoped he didn’t want to pursue his plan of finally getting a dragon for himself, the big dragon he wanted. 

Later as she lay in bed she tried to replicate all the events that took place that day. All the faces she saw, all the new people she met, the friend she made. In a couple of days they would depart, not knowing when she would see Westeros the next time. Her father would stay on Driftmark with her two half sisters. Daemon was still grieving and she didn’t want to burden him with her presence at this time. 

The chambers lay quiet and her thoughts were racing. Although her eyes pained her she wasn’t able to fall asleep yet. Aemond told her about what he had planned with Vhagar and he must do it in secret to avoid getting caught by the guards or servants. She did listen carefully if she heard any movement in the hallway. One turn of the hourglass passed and she still lay wide awake in her bed. Pulling her silver robe around herself she quietly opened the door and stepped out of her chambers. Something inside told her to leave the castle and step into the night. 

* * *

The air was still warm. It was the middle of summer,the Maesters have said. Not that she had ever known winter. Over her, the stars were shining brightly, illuminating the grounds in a pale silvery light. It was calm, nobles and servants alike were sleeping. The ones who stood guard and lay awake made sure to do this quietly. The waves crashed against the shore softly. The only other noise came from the stables. Muttered voices broke the peace of the night. A creature black and oily lay heavy in her stomach. Lord and Lady Velaryon kept the riderless dragons chained at the stables. Determined she walked in that very direction, there were no guards around who could have seen her. No one who could have seen anyone else. 

The stench was assaulting her nostrils. Dung was mixed with half roasted, spoiled meat and entire cattle cadavers. Vhagar lay in one corner, chained to the wall yet sleeping peacefully. 

That’s when she saw the two figures arguing with each other. 

“Go back to bed” the taller of the two whispered. 

“The King said you’re not allowed near Vhagar.” A childish voice said thick with fear. 

“What do you know boy. My father never said such a thing.” The voice didn’t need to speak any louder for Vaenya already knew who it belonged to. 

Aemond ignored the boy and walked straight to Vhagar. 

“Stop it! Vhagar will burn you” 

“Will you shut your mouth! You will wake up the entire castle. Just go back into your bed and forget what you’ve seen here” 

Vhagar opened her eyes and stared at the both of them. Her eyes were the bright green of a predator, ready to devour her next meal. The little boy came rushing towards Aemond, but the elder of the two pushed him onto a pile of dragon droppings. 

Vaenya yelled at him, trying to convincing to step away at the last moment. Hoping that Vhagar would spare him instead of burning him at any moment. But too bold for his own good, Aemond was already climbing on top of the dragon, whose eyes glistened dangerously at her. 

“Step away Vaenya!” Vhagar let out a loud roar as Aemond screamed at her. 

All she could do was duck as the Dragon of the Conquest moved and broke off her chains. With another roar she spread her wings and pushed herself off the ground. Aemond was holding onto her without any riding chains, seemingly only grabbing the spikes on her back. She hasn’t seen Vhagar ascending in years. And as long as she was on Driftmark she only saw her chained to the ground. It was a marvellous sight seeing her flying free through the skies again. The moonlight was reflecting off her glistening bronze hide, making her gleam almost pure silver. As both were flying high up one might mistake them for a comment racing through the sky. Or like the second moon, the Dothraki believed brought forth all the dragons once it broke open.

Admiring Vhagar she had forgotten about the young boy who was now freeing himself of the dirt. Joffrey Velaryon, the youngest of Princess Rhaenyras children, quickly looked at her before running towards the castle as fast as his short legs carried him. 

Aemond on Vhagar flew three times around High Tide, her wings loud as thunder. She knew how he must feel at the moment. The wind in the hair, the air chill against the skin. For a short moment it was as if she was up there as well. She saw the Isle from above, she felt the rough scales hot beneath her, she smelled the heat coming from Vhagars snout. 

Before they could return Joffrey came running back, together with his older brothers Jacaerys and Lucaerys. What stupid names they were though. 

“You should have gone back to your chambers asking your mother to give you a nice bath, look at you all dirty! And don’t even get me started on how you stink.” She was still angry from the encounter earlier today and couldn’t help herself with these little stabs against the princes. 

“Of course you’re here… _with him_ ” Jacaerys, the eldest, put emphasis on the last part. 

By now she knew about the quarrels between the Queen and the Princess which had passed on to their sons. It was a petty family affair and normally she wouldn’t involve herself in matters of that sort. However she couldn’t help herself but take sides after the rough treatment they had given her. Sure they were nothing but children and all younger than her but for whatever reason she couldn’t bring herself to liking them. 

With a loud thud Vhagar landed near the stables. Aemond beamed at her, finally he had a dragon of his own. After years of stabs by his older brother he claimed a dragon for himself and not just anyone but the biggest, oldest and fiercest Dragon that was left. He slid off his Dragon and softly pet her scales, refusing to leave already. 

“You are going to be in so much trouble.” He quickly turned to see Jacaerys mocking him. 

“Oh,” Aemond smiled at his nephew cruelly, fletching his teeth, “tell me about all the trouble I am in.” 

“Mother is furious, Joffrey is covered in shit and has a bruise on his cheek.” 

He must have kicked the little boy pretty hard, at least the dung softened his fall. If he hit the stone ground he might have hurt himself a lot more. But what Jacaerys said also meant Rhaenyra knew what had happened. Hopefully they would send someone from the castle soon to resolve this confrontation before it turned bad. 

“The King will be angry as well, he told you explicitly not to come too close to Vhagar.”

“And what is he going to do now? Vhagar is my dragon now, I bonded with her. She chose me as her rider. Be careful or I will tell her to eat the three of you alive.” 

“Vhagar wouldn’t do anything to us. We will fight you if we must and you will see, she won’t harm us.” 

Aemond looked skeptical and tried his best not to laugh into their faces. They were half his age and size, he could easily fight the three of them alone without much effort. Both Jacaerys and Lucaerys unsheathed wooden tourney swords and started attacking their uncle. 

“Are the three of you mental?” Vaenya yelled, trying to step in between, trying to put an end to this madness. 

“Don’t put your nose into stuff you have no idea about, bastard girl.” Jacaerys declared to her. 

“That's a bold statement to make from you of all people” It was then when she witnessed Aemond stabbing his own training sword into Jacaerys’ unprotected ribcage. All she could was jump to her side. Joffrey saw how his older brothers fought his very uncle who pushed him so unkindly not long ago. Vaenya grabbed the little boy and held him tightly to her. He protested by biting her fingers, causing her lots of trouble to keep a good hold of him. He was strong for a three year old, yet she couldn’t risk him possibly getting injured as soon as he would run towards his brothers. 

“Do you know you are a baseborn bastard yourself?” Aemond japped at his nephew. “All of you, just look at you. Hair like mud, nose like a pug and oh so very strong.” 

Jacaerys threw his sword furiously into his direction, only for Aemond to block him with a quick movement. Lucaerys mirrored his brothers assault and tried to hit his uncle in his leg, but he moved to swift for him to land a strike. 

“Didn’t nobody tell you that poor late Lord Laenor isn’t your real father, bastard boys. No need for you to be sad and cry false tears.” He insulted his nephews even further. 

This only caused Jacaerys to fully launch himself at Aemond. He aimed his sword at Aemond’s head and he blocked it. He swung it at his thigh and Aemond blocked it. He directed it at his stomach and Aemond blocked it, hitting the sword out of his nephews hand smashing it onto the floor.

Defenseless as Jacaerys stood in front of him he kicked him into the chest making him fall to the ground just like his sword moments ago. He bent over him beating him with full force. Yet he made sure not to leave any physical marks on his nephews body that could be traced back to him. With his brother on the ground Lucaerys jumped on Aemonds back trying to push him back. His uncle however was much stronger than him. 

That was when Lucaerys drew something out of his pocket. Vaenya only saw the silver glimpse in the dimly lit stables. She let go of Joffrey immediately to run towards Lucaerys who was already holding the dagger on Aemonds neck. She tried to throw it out of his hand only to cut her own in the movement. Her attempt at shoving Lucaerys away caused Aemond to turn his neck. A heartbeat later he let out a terrible scream. He held a shaking hand over his eye. Blood was streaming down his face. 

Lucaerys, still with his dagger pointed at his uncle, looked awestruck. He mumbled apologies talking about how he didn’t mean to and how sorry he was. But Aemond lay on the ground crying in agony. Vhagar let out a loud roar, causing the three brothers to run out of the stable hastingly. 

With tears in her own eyes she knelt next to her cousin. Slowly and with care she moved his head into her lap. Luckily she remembered her Maester telling her that it was of utter most importance to keep a fresh wound clean. She couldn’t make out the entire damage to his face as the most of it was slick with bright red blood. His entire body trembled, never has she felt so alone as of now. He needed immediate care or he would bleed to death in this very stable. Seeing him lay there half conscious half in agonizing pain made her feel just as miserable. With her right hand she tried to calm his throbbing shoulder, with the other she calmly brushed the hair out of his face. The beautiful silver locks have turned into a terrible red that sticks wet to his head. 

“You have to stay with me cousin, do you hear me.” She spoke more to herself, “Do you remember how we were born on the same day? We came into this world at the same time, so we shall leave it at the same time also. And I do not intend on dying on this day.”

His whimpering became more and more quiet as he lost his consciousness. Why was nobody coming to them yet? Didn’t the Velaryon boys tell them? She tried to scream for help but only a hoarse noise would come out of her mouth. She cursed the boy who did this over and over with the occasional prayer to whichever gods might be listening. 

Everything was a blur. She was covered in blood, the wounds on her hands hurt and the weight of Aemonds head lay heavy on her thighs. A knight in white armour came running to them. A woman shrieked at the sight of the bleeding body on the ground. The knight must be a kingsguard, Vaenya thought, as he lifted Aemonds limp body up out of her grasp. The woman followed the knight quickly back into the castle, leaving Vaenya on her own. 

She glanced at Vhagar who bore witness to the accident. She was free of her chains with her rider not close by and injured. Vaenya had known about the bond a dragon had with its rider. To her it seemed as if Vhagar had felt the same pain and agony as Aemond had in the very same moment. The Dragon could easily burn and devour her from this mere distance. But Vaenya knew that she would not do such a thing as she stood tall, drenched in blood in front of the mighty Vhagar. It wasn’t her who hurt her rider. Aemond’s dragon would never harm her. 

* * *

Her entire body ached and she was so tired she had a hard time keeping her eyes open. Many people in the castle were woken up in the middle of the night and were running through the corridors. However nobody paid much attention to the girl whose silver robe was covered over and over with blood, staining the fabric forever. Without caring about waking her sleeping mother up she walked into their chambers and slipped underneath the covers. But before she could finally sleep her mother came running in fanatically. Just now Vaenya realized that the bed she had shared with her mother for the duration of their visit, was cold and empty. Behind her mother she could see her brother and father, both with worry on their faces. 

Her mother lifted the covers off her and let out a scream at the sight of the blood. She asked many questions but all Vaenya noticed was the dumb movement of her mouth. 

“It’s not mine blood,” she was able to say with all the force she could still bring up. “I am just tired and want to sleep.” 

She woke up the next morning with both her parents looking worryingly onto her. She could not remember a single time they both had been there sitting on her bed together. 

“Are you in pain?” her father asked her calmly yet his voice was strong and curious. 

Without saying anything she showed them her hands, which were now miraculously bandaged. The Maester sworn to Driftmark must have treated them as she was sleeping. Her head hurt as if she had gotten a blow to it. It might have happened, for Vaenya could not remember the exact details of last night. Slowly some came back to her. 

“Prince Aemond, how is he?” She was suddenly very aware and almost afraid of the answer. 

“Alive, he is in pain but he lives” her mother assured her. 

“The Maester had to cut out his eye however. It would have festered if he kept it in, which would have been fatal.” Her father always spoke directly of the facts without much feelings in his voice. 

Wide awake and agitated she jumped out of her bed. “Can I see him? Where is he, please let me go to him.” 

But her father grapped her firmly, putting her back into bed. “Prince Aemond needs to rest, and so do you. You will stay in this bed until you are strong enough to tell the Queen and my brother the King what had happened.” 

If her parents were curious about her sudden interest in the princeling they at least did not dare to say it. 

To her annoyance she let her head fall back into the pillow. It felt softer than it usually did, soon she found herself drifting back into a deep slumber.


	3. An Eye for an Eye

Three days had passed since the incident. Three days she spent in bed worrying about Aemond, hating her Velaryon cousins and annoying her mother with constant pleas to finally let her leave the bed chambers. But she also thought about what she should tell the King and the Queen. For all she knew about the hatred between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. The Queen was very likely angered by the mud haired boys and would like to hear her version of the story. The King however had some affection for his grandchildren. To Vaenya it seems like he clearly favours Rhaenyra to his younger children by his second wife. That’s the reason she had planned her speech very carefully. 

In her head she put emphasis on the way the boys had insulted her, attacked Aemond three to one and of course, how Lucaerys drew the dagger at his uncle's neck. He obviously had the clear intention of to stab him, or at least to draw blood. 

She better ignored the part how they all insulted each other, or how merciless Aemond beat his young nephews. 

The wounds on her hands were healing but the Maester still kept them bandaged, cleaning them once a day. It wasn’t the Maester assigned to Driftmark but instead a younger one the Queen insisted on bringing to the Isle with them. She must have had foresight, since after the debacle of Lady Laenas childbirth, there was no one there with the ability to handle a medical emergency. Such as cutting out a princeling's eye. 

They arrived at the royal quarters just after noon. The Queen greeted them coldly, her eyes looked tired and plagued with worry. The Bedchamber was big and richly decorated, fit for King and Queen. Apart from themselves, three Kings Guards and three Handmaidens were in the room, as well as Queen Alicents children Helaena and Daeron. Vaenya could only imagine where the eldest son Aegon had been, as Aemond described him as lazy and sulky. Perhaps he was inside his very own chambers, not interested in his family's doings. From another smaller connected bedchamber she could make out a faint whimpering. 

Helaena caught her eyes, she looked uneasy and moved around her armchair. She had a hand placed on her youngest brother's arm in order to keep him calm. Although this was not required, Daeron was a very agreeable young boy, always smiling politely walking behind his Mother and older sister. 

A Kingsguard stepped forward, it must have been the one who picked Aemond up during the night in the stable. Those memories were still muddled but she recognized his voice, full with determination however not sounding unkindly. 

“Lady Taeleste, my apologies for the inconvenience. I know you had planned for your departure by now, but we need to know about the incidents that left Prince Aemond injured.” he turned to Vaenya, “The prince is not yet approachable, and her Grace the Queen wishes to hear what had happened exactly. For you had to bear witness and might know of details the Velaryon princelings had spared us of.” 

There it was just as she had expected, the Queen despised her stepdaughter enough already but after one of her offspring had nearly killed her own son she searched for any evidence that let her be seen in a bad light. Surely it wasn’t as dramatic as people made it seem, one does not die from a wound like this if it was taken care of immediately. However, a member of the royal family was wounded. If this had been done by anyone other than a royal princling the consequences would be severe. The child of a lord would be sent away as a punishment, a servant would be put to death. Even if it would have been an accident, no one was allowed to harm a child of the King. 

Queen Alicent put Vaenyas hands in her own. They felt cold and bony, yet the sudden affectioness was welcome to her. “Will you tell me what these foolish boys have done to my beloved son? Why were you there in the first place?”

“I was not able to sleep that night and lay in bed for many an hour. Then I was able to make out noises on the corridors, thought I heard a child brabbling. But I also had to leave the room to get some fresh air after the supper.” 

Vaenya made sure to bend the story towards her own good, how should she explain to the Queen that she had known of her son's plans to claim old Vhagar for himself in the dead of the night. 

“That was when I saw Prince Joffrey running outside the castle and into the courtyard. He was alone as I couldn’t see anyone else with him, therefore I decided to follow him and bring him back to bed. He is so young and I did not wish any harm on him. He however ran very fast and straight towards the stables where the Dragons are chained. I know that I am not allowed to go there so I hesitated. Inside there was someone and I thought that maybe they would bring the little prince back into his chambers. But then I heard yelling and the dragons roaring, the boy screamed and the chains rattled. Vhagar had broken herself off and was flying into the air. I could merely see someone sitting on her back.” 

“I was paralyzed, unable to move. From the corner of my eye I saw Prince Joffrey laying in a pile or dragon droppings. Before I could go help him he already stood up and ran back inside.” 

This much was true. She really barely moved, her eyes fixated on Vhagar and Aemonds hair flowing silver through the air. 

“What happened when they landed?” Queen Alicent made no remarks on her son secretly claiming a dragon, Vaenya could even see a bit of pride gleaming in her eyes. 

“Meanwhile Prince Joffrey had returned, his older brothers came running towards the stables as well. They were very angry, as Aemond got off Vhagar they accused him of hitting their brother and pushing him to the ground. I had seen none such a thing, he only tried to keep him away from Vhagar, he had no ill intent. Prince Jacaerys and Lucaerys challenged him to a fight and drew the wooden swords they had brought with them. Aemond then tried to deescalate the situation by sending them away, he would not fight with the two princelings who were both younger and smaller than him.” 

Behind her she heard a man scruffing, sounding unconvinced. As she turned she saw Ser Otto Hightower, Hand of the King and father to the Queen, she had not noticed him before. In disbelief the Queen met her fathers eyes. Of course Aemond was not one to voluntarily stop any fight, especially not with the nephews he detested. Everyone knew how quick to anger and slow to forgive the prince was. But Vaenya was not bothered by their doubting. If Aemond was the picture or chivalry in her version of the story then so it will be. Unbothered by any skeptical stares she continued. 

“I tried to walk in between the four of them myself, as they had not seen me in the barely lit stable. The young princes started to yell at me calling me bad names. They shouted bastard at me!” She was sobbing at this point and tried her best to bring herself to cry. A tear or two would just add perfectly to her troubled state. 

“It was then when Prince Jacaerys and Lucaerys came running towards Prince Aemond, attacking him with their wooden swords.” She was careful to add their titles when speaking about her cousins, not to seem too casual in the royal company who investigated her. Afterall she had to keep up her respectful and polite fassade if she wanted them to believe her. Especially since she was a royal bastard, appropriate behavior was of uttermost importance. 

“The only thing I could do was to grab little Prince Joffrey and hold him tightly. He is still so young and I didn't want him to get hurt. The elder princes were fighting and hitting each other and he could easily get stomped or get a blow into the head with one of the swords.” 

She held her hands up, beneath the bandages there were still bite marks visible around her wrists and forearms. The Queen nodded in understanding. In truth she also held Joffrey away from Aemond as three angry little boys would only annoy him more, causing more damage in the end. 

“In the mere light I could barely make out the fighting mess. Everyone moved very fast. But then…” she paused, remembering how the silver dagger gleamed in the light. Maybe if she had not been there, had not tried to tear it out of Prince Lucaerys’ hand. Maybe then Aemond would not have turned around and maybe then Lucaerys would have missed his target. He would be spared the pain and didn’t have to walk through the rest of his life with one eye less than the average man. She could be in Pentos now, sitting in the garden, petting her cat and watching the peacocks. But instead she had to be interrogated by the Queen and the Kings’ Hand. 

She was lost in her thoughts when her mother kindly put her hand on her shoulder. Silently signaling her to go on, to continue her story. 

Regaining her composure she finished what she started. 

“Prince Lucaerys drew a dagger, moving towards Prince Aemonds neck.” Helaena and Daeron let out a gasp as the Queen inhaled sharply. The rest of the people in the room kept deathly quiet. There was only the silent whimpering coming out of the room where Aemond lay in delirium, caused by the pain as well as the milk of the poppy he was given. 

“I let go of Joffrey, I tried to make Lucaerys let go of the blade.” She glanced down at her hands once again. 

“The cuts were rather deep but they’re healing as of now.” Her mother added. 

“Suddenly there was a lot of blood. Everyone was perplexed. But as Aemond let out a cry so did Vhagar and the little Princes ran away. I couldn’t leave him there, bleeding on the ground. So I put his head up and waited. I tried to yell for help but nothing would come out.” 

“That’s how I have found them your Grace.” The Kingsguard confirmed to his Queen. 

“Very well then Lady Vaenya. Thank you for your patience. I am ever so glad you took your time and reported to me. After supper this evening his Grace the King will hold a council listening himself to the happenings. I would ask you if you could be so kind and tell his Grace the same thing that you just told me once more?” This wasn’t a question but a request and she would gladly do it. 

She curtsied to the Queen and was therefore dismissed. Helaena and Daeron were brought out of the room by the Kingsguards with only the one who talked to Vaenya remaining standing at the door. That must be the commander she wondered. Her mother was in lively conversation with the Queen, Ser Otto and Ser Christian, still sitting on the table she just presented her tale on. Not spending a single thought to the girl still standing in the chambers. Unbeknownst to them she walked through the grand room and sneaked into the small connected chamber. 

She pulled the door without closing it completely. It was dark, the window closed with the only light source of light coming from the candelabras and the glistening fireplace. There was just one person in the room. Aemond lay on the bed, still crying muffled mewls of pain. It hurt her just as much seeing him suffering like that. Slowly she approached the bed, it was grand, being the centerpiece of the room. 

She sunk in as she knelt on the straw mattress. The sheets were soft and cold to her touch. Gradually she laid herself down next to her cousin. His single remaining eye was closed, but she could see fast movements beneath the pale lids. The other side of his face looked rather horrifying. Most of the blood had been cleaned off his skin, but she could still see some bits of red on his scalp, dying the hair a deep reddish brown colour. His cut out eye was hidden behind a bandage which went around his head, diagonally parting his hair in two. Aemond had not yet sensed her presence or the movement of the bed, so deep was his unpeaceful sleep. Laying next to him she put her own hand on top of his. The skin felt soft and hot to the touch as she intertwined their fingers. Moments passed and she felt calm in the darkly lit and cold room. She expected it to smell like blood due to the treatment he had received in this very bed. But instead it smelled like incense and firewood slowly turning to ash. That was when she realized how the room became completely quiet. The figure next to her has stopped making that agonizing noise. Instead she could hear his slow breathing in sync with her own heartbeat. He had calmed down at last. 

It was a while before she could see two shadows in the doorway. She wasn’t able to tell who it was since the light was blinding her eyes and both stood in the darkness, but she didn’t have to. The Queen and her own mother must have forgotten about her, only to find her in bed next to her cousin innocently holding his hand. If they had seen a few name days more the women would have been appalled at this sight. 

“He has stopped crying! For the first time in days my son is finally at peace!” The Queen let out a sign of relief. “Thank the Gods for you Girl, thank you for keeping him company.” 

Surprised she looked at her mother who kept a stern look to her face. 

The council that was planned for the night had been postponed to the next day. Prince Aemond still wasn’t able to leave his bed and his Father wanted his presence in full attentiveness. 

Vaenya spent that night in the room sleeping next to her cousin. It wasn’t a rare thing for nobles of Westeros to share a bed during visits, as that part of the furniture could be more costly. This was especially the case for children. She didn’t mind, it was soft and comfortable and she was still tired. Perhaps from all the thinking and recollecting she had to do as of this day. With eyes heavy she listened to Aemonds breathing across the large bed. She still held his hand as she slipped into a deep sleep once more. 

* * *

“What are you doing here?” Aemond stared at her in disbelief the next morning. 

“Keeping you company. Her Grace the Queen let me stay with you. You could not keep quiet, crying like a babe. Only shut up once I lay next to you.” 

“And why would you do such a thing?” He frowned at her angrily. 

“I told your dear mother how the terrible princelings attacked you after you stood by me in defense. I could not stand to see you suffer on your own. The Queen was surprised indeed, but she did not yet send me away.”

His vision was cloudy, still processing what Vaenya reported him. 

“Do you remember anything at all?” She asked slowly. 

“Well I do remember what I can’t see out of my damn eye! Also I did no such thing for you.” He was shouting now. 

The bandage looked foreign on his angular yet handsome face. Clearly he was still light-headed from the milk of the poppy and the days he had spent in a state more comatose than awake. 

“Do you remember mounting Vhagar?” She tried carefully. 

Suddenly remembering his Dragon he smiled widely at her. “I might have lost an eye but gained the fiercest Dragon that there is. I did it on my own it was me! My father thought I couldn’t do it but he was wrong. What would I do with a pathetic hatchling. I got the only dragon that is worthy of me.” 

Vaenya was more than aware of Aemonds moods. His anger came fast and unexpected. However she knew what to say at the right time to keep him stable. With time she could use it to her own good, or rather to their own good. 

A handmaiden came looking after them. They would break their fast in the chambers the Kings sons had been sharing. They were joined by Aegon, Daeron as well as Helaena. Her own brother also sat with them. Their mother was invited to eat with the King and the Queen. 

“Her Grace must be fond of our dear mother.” Vaenar turned his head to her, keeping the etiquette even while speaking quietly to his sister. 

At the table also sat Helaenas Septa, perhaps to make sure the princelings and their bastard cousins would behave. It had been a surprise to Vaenya to be called upon this meal, she must have gained the Queens trust. Truely, the kind looks between her mother and the Queen didn’t go past her. They spoke as two women concerned about their children. If Vaenya could turn the events against Rhaenyras favour she would be ever so glad.

In this moment she felt happy belonging to a family she thought would despise her. Helaena, who sat to Vaenyas other side, spoke very kindly to her. Later she had invited her to go and see her dragon Dreamfyre with her. At the mention of the dragon the conversation on the table became louder and everyone spoke at one. 

“You have to see Sunfyre then. Everyone says he’s the most beautiful dragon of all time.” Aegon said, for once not as sulken as he tone usually was. 

“They call my Tessarion the blue queen! That’s how regal and magnificent she is. You have yet to see her.” Daeron was almost shouting. He was the kindest and most behaved of the Kings’ sons, but talking about his dragon got him so excited he forgot about his table manners. 

“They’re all cowering in comparison to my Vhagar! The dragon that conquered the Kingdoms and fought thousands on the field of fire.” Aegon rolled his eyes at his younger brother's triumphal outburst. 

“It wasn’t just Vhagar but also Balerion and Meraxes and the conquerors convincing the major lords to join them. Furthermore did our Father say that you are not allowed to fly Vhagar yet.” 

Aemond staggered at his brothers remarks. 

He had told them first thing how he claimed the dragon for himself and in turn got his eye stabbed out by his five year old nephew. Never leaving out a chance to show his disdain for Rhaenyras sons. Which earned him a warning look from the septa that he surely ignored. 

Helaena reassured that Vaenyas wounds on her hands and forearms were healing. Calling her brave and quick thinking to hold onto little prince Joffrey and protecting him from further harm. What a polite and well-mannered princess she was, even if she had sensed ill intent from Vaenya and brother Aemond she would be quiet about it. Different to Aegon, he shared his hatred for Jacaerys, Lucaerys and Joffrey and would throw the occasional jap at Aemond. 

Vaenar rarely said a word throughout the entire time. Dutiful he answered questions about Life in Pentos and what it is like being a squire to the City’s Prince. Different to his sister he did not yet feel comfortable in the company with the Princelings of Westeros. When they were alone he made sure to regularly throw japs at his sister and the position of the male of the family fit him very well. It amused Vaenya seeing Vaenar cowering next to her, as she chatted freely with her cousins. But between the six of them it was Aemond and Vaenya who were talking the most. Seemingly resuming their conversation as if one did not just spend four days in delirium. 

As promised they spend the afternoon at the stables. Sunfyre was as beautiful as Aegon promised her while Tessarion was as regal as Daeron reassured her. Of all them Dreamfyre however was the most impressive. Helaena told her about Princess Rhaena who was the Dragons mount before she claimed her earlier this year. The tale of Rhaena, who lost her brother husband to her uncle Maegor whom she was later forced to marry, was well known all over the seven Kingdoms but new to Vaenya. The Black Bride as they called her was as wild and determined as only a Targaryen Princess could be. Her dragon Dreamfyre with her pale blue scales and silver marking mirrored the boldness of its former rider, however Vaenya could not make out such an attitude in her cousin Helaena. 

The presence of the dragons was not the most pleasant thing to Vaenar. For he had only known his fathers caraxes, a more aggressive and war-proven wyrm. Slowly he was able to warm up however, with Sunfyre letting him pet his snout ever so slightly. Aemond did not go with them. The thought of seeing Vhagar without being able to fly was too much of a blow to his pride.

* * *

After supper spent with her mother in her chambers, Vaenya put on a modest yet fine looking dress. She picked one made out of silk the colour of freshly fallen snow. For what it was worth she had to look reliable stepping in front of the King, the Princess of Dragonstone and the Lords of this very castle they were but visitors. As well she had to keep her posture for the confrontation with the Velaryon Princes. She would have preferred talking to the King in a smaller circle just as she did with the Queen, but King Viserys wanted to talk to his son and grandchildren directly. To her own displeasure she had to present her testimony in the presence of the entire royal family. 

Once more a grand table had been set up in High Tides great hall. To the frontside King Viserys sat with his hand Otto Hightower and Lord Corlys on each side next to him. Both men sitting opposite each other trying to advise their King on the escapades of their grandchildren. 

Next to her father sat the Queen by the side of her mutilated son. Across Rhaenyra with Lucaerys, the four sharing ice cold looks. On the other end of the table Vaenya was placed between her brother and father with her mother standing behind her. Taeleste softly placed her hands on her daughter's shoulders. 

“Days ago,” King Viserys inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air, “a most atrocious wound was given to my son Prince Aemond Targaryen.” 

Turning his gaze to his grandson, “Prince Lucaerys you stand accused of causing this wound. Do you deny it?” 

Avoiding his uncle's stare, Lucaerys cowardly stared to the ground. “I did not mean to. It was an accident. He was hurting my brother and I only held my dagger to Aemonds neck. But then he moved his head and … the blade picked his eye.” 

“How could you mistake my neck?” Aemond narrowed his one remaining eye, “You would have cut my throat if it was not for Vaenya trying to take it out of your hand.” 

At the mention of her name all eyes were pointing in her direction. 

Between Princelings Aemond and Lucaerys, Vaenya was looked upon as the neutral bystander who had only witnessed the scene. 

King Viserys once again raised his voice. “Lady Vaenya, I was told that you were present that night. You have talked to her Grace the Queen before, might you share what had happened with the council?” His voice was surprisingly soft as he kindly paid her attention. 

Just as she did the other day in front of the Queen and the Kings Hand, Vaenya started to talk. Again she spared everyone the details how both her and Aemond have provoked Lucaerys and his brothers. The entire time Princess Rhaenyras sons observed her precisely. Lucaerys quietly sobbing under his Grandfather's watchful eyes. 

“You mentioned how you have seen Lucaerys pointing the dagger at my sons neck?” The king inquired.

“Your Grace, I saw how Prince Lucaerys held it in his hands. He was clearly pointing it at Prince Aemond’s neck, ready to use it.” 

“She is lying! I would never do such a thing!” Lucaerys cried out. 

“Then why would you bring your dagger and point at a person behind his back?” unable to control her anger any further she shouted out loud. 

“You girl have no right to raise your voice against a Prince of royal blood.” Rhaenyra growled at her, “ You are nothing but a bastard standing in the mere mercy of your betters. Yet here you stand, spreading falsehoods about my own son.” Her face was red as she fixed her bright purple eyes on Vaenya. 

“Are you calling my daughter a Liar, your Grace? Since it seems an awful lot like it. My daughter was one of the present parties that night and I do not question her competence in any way. My Vaenya has always been a reliable voice and I trust her completely.” Taeleste said serenely. She stood tall and strong, being a vision in all her dignity. Her slender figure and cold gaze stood in contrast to Rhaenyras fury. Vaenya did not yet know what her Mother talked about to the King, however she realized that he valued presence sincerely. 

Her mother was the last living descendant of an ancient yet small valyrian family. While once being Dragonlords themselves, the Belaerys’ lived in a trading outpost in Asshai and therefore survived the Doom. During the Century of blood however they lost the few of the Dragons they had with them in the City beneath the shadows. The wars were bloody and obscure and decimated the few descendents of the Valyrian nobles dramatically. Despite everything, having ties to both Lys as well as the Iron Bank itself, left them in a position of power with plenty of coin and influence. Further riots and unfortunate events left Taeleste the last known Balaerys, controlling the fortune and old contracts herself. 

Even before her involvement with Prince Daemon there have been tries of combining the Targaryen and Belaerys lines through marriage. Understandably there have been quite the rumours about that strange and foreign Family from the end of the known World. Some said that they were purposefully intermarrying with magicians and warlocks and being shadow binders themselves who practised blood magic. Others claimed them to have caused the doom in order to stand alone as the sole remaining Dragonlords. That was something they had in common with the Targaryens. A few even argued both Families had previously joined before and that the ones living in Asshai were the offspring of Maegor the cruel. Whatever might have been said about her ancestors, Taeleste was a well beloved guest, even to the Lords in Westeros. 

“I value the voice of your dear daughter,” King Viserys reassured Taeleste, “this is a serious matter and I must decide a punishment for what had happened. I cannot think with everyone shouting at one another.” He was eying his eldest daughter. 

Drinking from his golden goblet, he exhaled and lowered his brows. Appearing to be deep in thought. 

“There is no reason to think much for a fitting punishment.” Queen Alicent took upon herself. “An eye for an eye. Prince Lucaerys cut out Aemonds eye. It would only be fair for him to lose one in return.” 

Rhaenyra and her sons were shouting at one. 

“It was not my son who did this, your own Maester cut out Aemonds eye.” 

“Because he would have died if he did not! My son lay four days on the brink of death and he will be forever marked by that boys’ brutality.” The Princess and the Queen were stabbing back at each other. 

“You are speaking about my son as if he was scum. He is a prince nonetheless. Son of the Princess of Dragonstone and heiress to the Iron Throne. He is standing above all of your children, your Grace. Yet I have heard that your despicable son Aemond had called my sons bastards, how do you answer that brother?” Rhaenyra spoke that last word drenched in poison. They might have the same father however she would never recognize them as her siblings. 

“That is because they are bastards” Aemond remarked bored.

“You disgraceful little child,” Rhaenyra was roaring at him, “my children are mourning their late Fathers death. You are slandering his memory and the all of us. I swear to the gods if you were anyone else…” 

“QUIET! EVERYONE!” The King shouted, turning at his son, “Where did you hear such a thing my son? Who was it that is spreading lies of this kind?” 

“Aegon has told me,” he answered at once, “but this is not the point. Just look at them. Their eyes are the colour of mud, just as their hair, their faces are blunt and nothing like ours. Where would they get that from if Lord Laenor fathered them. They are Harwin Strongs bastard sons.”

“What are you implying there? I have loved my late husband and dearly and was a faithful wife to him until the very end.” Rhaenyra cut him off. 

Vaenyas mother sighed amused. 

“You are a disgrace to this family,” Aemond affronted her further, “you gave birth to bastards and insist on putting them on the throne. What you commited is high treason dear sister!”

“What you are insisting is high treason! You deserve to be put in the black cells and tortured, them cutting out your remaining eye as well” Ryaenyra was shrieking back at her brother. 

The King rammed his goblet onto the table, silencing them all at once. 

“I will hear no such thing, I am deeply disappointed in you my son.” he faced Aemond with a bright red face. “I will call justice on this at once. Lucaerys you will apologize to your uncle, you were carelessly waving your dagger around, aware of the consequences. Rhaenyra, I want you to apologize for threatening your own brother with torture. And you Aemond will apologize at once to your sister for accusing her of mothering bastards. I forbid anyone of mentioning this outside these castle walls. Furthermore, anyone who speaks of it again will have their tongues cut out with hot pincers, princes or otherwise. Am I understood?” 

How could the King be so indifferent in his judgement? But not only this, he was clearly ignoring his son's sayings. The different appearance of Rhaenyras sons were obvious and Vaenya thought that it must be the talk in the entire court by now. How could he simply refuse to accept this clear fact. 

“I am sorry Aemond,” Lucaerys broke the silence, “I did not intend this. I do not wish to hurt you.” 

Aemond frowned and touched the socket of his removed eye. He looked to be in immense pain as his hand was shaking slightly and Vaenya could make out drops of sweat on his forehead. He was in pain or very angry. Mayhaps both. 

Rhaenyra hesitated at first. But after a conversing look from her father she gave in.

“I too did not truly wish any harm on you, I apologize for suggesting such a thing. Now do your bidding, brother,” Rhaenyra followed, “Lucaerys did his part, so did I, now do yours and apologize to me.” 

But he just sat there, arms crossed and lips sealed shut. 

“Give the boy time,” now it was her father Daemon who spoke, “he is still in pain and perchange cannot forgive you that quickly. But give him time, eventually he will apologize to you, dear niece.” 

Rhaenyra gave him a look that Vaenya could not place anywhere. But she seemed pleased. 

“I consider this matter settled.” The King got up followed by the Queen and his Hand. 

Rhaenyra and her sons got up and left the hall as well. 

As everyone left only Aemond, Vaenya and her father remained. 

“I regret that I pulled you into this, you should not have been there.” Aemond spoke faintly to her. 

She had a soft smile on her lips, about to explain to him that it was not his doing, when her father took it upon himself. 

“You are becoming more unpredictable and belligerent, nephew. The circumstances almost escalated today as it did just days ago and see what it had cost you. You shall need a way to let out all of that frustration that you have got bottled up. I will speak with my brother the King that you should get proper training. I might even do it myself.” 

With a sullen look on his face he had no choice but to accept his uncle's offer before wishing the two of them a good night and departing into his bed chambers. 

Daemon faced his daughter as both were the only ones left in the great hall besides some servants cleaning the table. 

“You might think twice about whose company you should surround yourself with. There are snakes everywhere, especially coming from the capital. And Dragons are also just wyrms.” 

Turning to their rooms she thought that this visit was indeed everything but a dull affair.


	4. The Mongers' City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a short and quick chapter mainly focused on world building. We are in Pentos a year later, nothing much happened and soon we shall be going across the narrow sea once more!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I listened to [this ambience video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZgbbzDKb7Hg&t=2521s) while writing and editing. It fits perfectly since the voices in the background are mainly in greek and I kind of compare greek in our world to (high) valyrian in the woiaf, so all the bastard valyrian languages are kind of like the greco/ roman languages here. Which of course perfectly fits a busy harbor city such a Pentos.

Pentos 121 AC

The bazaar is buzzing in all its daily glory around her. Located at the harbour, close to the ships coming in from near and far to trade exotic goods for pentoshi coin. The scent of many different spices hung in the air. Vaenya was strolling from one merchant to another, with her elbow hooked into her brothers walking next to her. 

Behind them a sellsword guarded them and the gold they carried in their pockets. Their mother Taeleste would always send one or two men with her children, once they decided that they are old enough to discover the city on their own. Pentos was not known for being too dangerous to walk through the streets, but Vaenar and Vaenya were easily identified as the city's nobles in their fine clothing. One could not be too careful, especially on the decks with many a merchant having ill intent or trying to collect a hefty ransom for an abducted child. 

Vaenya always preferred the bazaar on the decks to the market inside the city. Trade was more lively here, as well as one could find some rare items that would not make it into the market's big tents. She had good reason to, in a few days time they would depart Pentos in the direction of Kings Landing. Over the past year she had a cheerful letter exchange with her cousin living in the capital. The Royal family had invited Vaenya and her family into the Red Keep, planning on celebrating the name day she shared with Prince Aemond. So she had found herself in dire need of a present for her cousin but also something for Helaena and Daeron as well.

From a ship's deck a man was shouting to her. It was a gallant and fast sloop that crossed the narrow sea to Westeros daily. She knew him, it was not the first time she needed his services. The man was a young sailor, his skin however roughed by sun and salt on the sea. 

“M’Lady,” he said in the Westerosi common tongue, his accent revealing his low birth, “I’ve got a letter for you once again.” Vaenya gladly accepted the stack of paper wrapped in parchment that one would hardly call a letter and handed him some coins in return. He was likely paid already, but the herald has been of good use to her over the last turns of the moons. “This would be the last one for a time. You shall be contacted soon enough. Thank you many times.” 

Aemond, as well as contacts of her mother have been informing them about what was happening in the Capital and beyond. Most scandalously her father has taken his own niece, Rhaenyra the Princess of Dragonstone, as his wife in a secret ceremony, mere six moons after the death of their former spouses. The Princess has given birth before the new year and both are now staying on Dragonstone, for their own good. 

King Viserys was everything but amused that his brother wedded and bedded his daughter. Aemond clearly enjoyed slandering his half sister in their letters. They had written in high Valyrian to each other. Not that this would have kept either the King or the Maesters from finding out about their topics, but at last it had brought them joy. Aemond was very well with words and his loathing for his sister and her sons sounds almost poetic written in the ancient tongue of the dragonlords. For her own father he had no kind words left as well. Although he was idolizing him in some way, marrying the  _ Whore of Dragonstone _ as he put it, was much to his displeasure. 

Daemon kept his promise and started to train his nephew in combat. He had taken great pleasure in this and assured her that it was his destiny to become a great warrior. As soon as he married his sister however he did not dare to return to the capital. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Criston Cole took over in the training of the young prince instead. In all the letters Aemond had sent her after Daemon had been replaced he continued to praise his new teacher all over. Obviously ignoring how he did the same thing with her father just weeks prior. Her cousin's distaste for him had her chuckle. At last they were sharing that bit. 

Trying to leave the galley a tall man with broad shoulders blocked her way. He was richly dressed in silks and covered in jewels. 

“Are you lost my dear girl?” His deep voice roared in her head. He wore a sheepish grin on his dark face. Instead of two eyes looking down on her, there was just only a single black one. Where his other eye was supposed to be a big beaming red ruby stared back at her. The man who was at least twice her height and thrice her width and was a rather frightening figure. 

“Are you finished there Vaenya?” Vaenar asked, standing down at the deck next to the sellsword.

“All done brother.” The man kept his eye on her as she made her way back, out of his view.

“T’was a pirate my Lady,” The sellsword told her, “murky company this kind. I‘d be careful.”

Vaenar had his eyes focused on the supposed pirate as he reached out for his sister. He was close to five and ten, standing tall and proud like the young man was about to become. Looking at his face Vaenya realized just how similar they were. 

Both had the same narrow nose with the high bridge and ever so slightly downward turned tip. Their cheekbones were high and prominent with pale unblemished skin tightly covering it. As well as eyes the same shade of pale lilac, which they both got from their father. Of the few differences she could make out was how manly her brother's face slowly became. His jaw was more square than hers and so were his eyebrows. On top of that he had grown significantly, standing about six feet tall now. Their main distinction however was the hair on their heads. Vaenya had not only inherited Daemon Targaryens eyes, she also possessed his silver hair. Making her look like a perfectly fine Targaryen just like her younger half sisters Baela and Rhaena. While Vaenar matched their mothers deep shining black hair. It fell straight just above his shoulders.  On his hip he wore the family's Valyrian steel sword. After her mother’s journey from Asshai it was the only one their family possessed, it was given to him as he started training with a sword two years prior. The weapon was a pure black colour, the blade as the hilt, with a single line of black onyx decorating the grip as well as a big black pearl in the middle of the pommel. It was named after an ancestor from old Valyria whose life was shrouded in mystery. In high valyrian it was therefore called  _ Qrīdronnor Dārilaros  _ which could be translated into Prince of Chaos, or Chaos Prince. Vaenar, as well as a swordsman he was at his young age, was more calm and collected with a fair and just mind. The sword on his hip could not be more different in name to her brother, Vaenya thought. Its title reminded her of another certain prince. 

* * *

Magister Nestions Manse had not been far from the harbour. Different to most places that housed the city's magisters, it was located at the Bay with direct access to the water. They rode on horseback along the streets, returning to their home of many years. The Estate was built of bright white marble, contrasting with the many brick buildings surrounding it. Along the grounds stood a tall wall protecting it from undesirable looks. Inside its walls was planted a splendid garden with many luscious green plants. In his younger years Trego Nestion had been a sailor, traveling the seas. From his many journeys he had brought plants and flowers from far away places to be planted in his garden, much to the enjoyment of his now long dead wife. Right at the entrance, centering the grand doors stood a beautiful fountain made out of the same white marble. Vaenya recalled how often she ran through the many paths beneath palm trees and through the small orchard where servants harvested lemons, figs and olives. Often she sat in the sand with her brother, devouring the fresh fruits they had plucked from the trees, overlooking ships anchoring in the bay.

Trego Nestion sat outside on the main terrasse, enjoying wine and cheese as he greeted them dearly. He was a plump man past his best years. Wearing an ornate blue tunic over golden trousers he fit perfectly well into the colourful outsides. Like many magisters of his status, he wore his beard forked and braided. His hair has turned grey, and not the shining silver of the Valyrians, but due to the signs of age. The time however has been kind to him. He secured a fast fortune through his travels and later the spice trade. With both his sons dead he had named Taeleste and her children his heirs. 

More than a decade ago he was visited by Prince Daemon Targaryen, he asked him for refuge for a woman and two children who soon would arrive in Pentos. Not long after he found a frightened figure, holding a babe to her chest and a toddler behind her skirts, on the grounds of his estate. Warmly he let them in his home, let them bathe and eat and recover from their journey. He knew Prince Daemon from time he spent in Lys and on the stepstones, later he sent both his sons to fight with his companion. They were both great with sword and well embraced Daemon’s Kingdom of the Stepstones. As the war continued however he heard less and less of his sons until the last messages they had sent were one year in the past. 

PThe Westerosi Prince did not explain any further who the woman and the children were or why they were here. All he knew was that currently fighting has erupted again in Lys, part of the ongoing war in the Stepstones between the cities of Lys, Tyrosh and Myr with the Prince on his Dragon partaking. The woman was not talking, due to the horrors of war she had witnessed, he guessed. With his sons missing perchance one of them took her as his wife and sired these children? With time however he must have realized that the babe with the silver hair could not be his grandchild. It took a while before the woman started to tell how she was the prince’s lover he had met in Lys. A riot started just as she went into labor with their second child. As soon she was able to, Daemon had put her on a ship away into safety. Unfortunately the ship had an encounter with pirates raging in the stepstones which only worsened their journey. 

Prince Daemon did take years to come and visit them. Trego however has heard of his jolly in Kings Landing. This had not only turned him but also Taeleste as well as her children against Daemon. 

Shortly after they had arrived in Pentos, Taeleste as well as her daughter caught a fever. He had come to care for them deeply and was most upset about their health. Miraculously with the help of a red Priestess from the nearby Temple of R'hllor, who claimed to have known Taeleste, both were able to heal in time. He started to get to know the woman and realized that he took in a rather smart and strategic woman, who was able to stand her ground about the other Magisters. His wife, who mourned the loss of her children deeply, welcomed the three strangers dearly. She accepted them as part of their family, it was only natural for Trego to offer them a place among their own. Not long after his wife died, he named Taeleste as his heir. After he was gone as well, it should be her to handle his fortune and place in the council of magisters. Strengthening her claim to the rest of her own families possessions and positions. 

To her mothers side Taeleste could trace back an ancestor who had been a keyholder of the Iron Bank of Braavos. To her fathers side she inherited the trading output on Lys, which was currently controlled by her Cousin, the Patriarch of the Rogare Family. Her family's connections and diplomatic nature made her the perfect match for this spot. Something that must have attracted Prince Daemon to her as well, this or her otherworldly beauty of course. Either way, Trego has accepted Taeleste as his daughter and her children as his grandchildren, no matter if they do not have a drop of his own blood in them. He assured that they would enjoy the best education possible, being taught in all the important subjects from history to mathematics and economy, languages as high valyrian and its many bastard forms, asshai, yi-tish as well as healing, riding, etiquette, astronomy and even the higher mysteries. Both children were taught equally, this was what Taeleste demanded as she wanted her daughter to be an independent and intelligent woman. After all she had wished for her to go to Lys in order to control their families business there. 

Vaenya had only known life inside protected walls. But even she knew that this was not how everyone, every girl her age was able to live. The conversations with her cousin Helaena a year ago had made her even more aware of that. Already by the age of twelve the girl knew where her place was supposed to be. She talked about getting married, birthing children and being a faithful wife and mother. To Vaenya this life seemed nothing but boring and dull, staying so close to what was appropriate at court. Helaena was a royal princess and a dragon rider nonetheless, but she was also very mannered and pliant. If it was to Vaenya and she would find herself in such a position she would much more prefer the status a prince could enjoy. Flying on her dragon, visiting foreign places, all of the free cities, living free and exploring the world without having any boundaries. Luckily for her, her mother did not raise her like Queen Alicent raised Helaena but she was to become a reliable member of her family. Knowing that she would have great responsibilities from early on. 

As for now however she must prepare herself for her visit in Kings Landing. Even if the life of a royal princess is much to her distaste she knows very well how to behave herself in such a place. Next to courtesies curtsies it was custom to gift hosts properly. She marveled at the presents her mother asked her to get for Helaena and Daeron. For her youngest cousin Daeron, she found a gorgeous quill made out of a huge bright blue feather of an exotic bird from the summer isles that matched his dragon Tessarions scales wonderfully. He soon would be sent to Oldtown to squire for Lord Hightower, a kin of his, perhaps he could use the new feather to write home, Vaenya thought. As for Helaena she got wonderful silks spun in Yi-Ti, dyed with the best colours Tyrosh has to offer. They were of a pale blue, lilac and silver colours, the markings of her dragon Dreamfyre. Surely, in court everyone wore dark and intense colours but she was positive that Helaena would look just delightful in them. 

Only for Aemond she had not yet found the perfect present. It had to be something special as it was meant to be for his name day. However the strange encounter with the merchant or apparent pirate today on the decks has left her with an idea. She walked towards her vanity where she neatly put her jewelry. 

Except that one night on Driftmark she had never worn the necklace with the grand sapphire hanging from it. It was hardly the only beautiful gemstone she possessed, Magister Nestion would not be angry with her she reassured herself. It had to be this one Vaenya insisted, not another. Perhaps a purple amethyst would be a better match, or an emerald would fit the unofficial house colours, or even a ruby like the man on the bazaar and the Targaryen colours. But no, it must be this sapphire, and Vaenya already knew how to persuade Aemond to wear this where his eye was supposed to be. 


	5. The King's City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to [this King's Landing ambience](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t30lAov6UuE&t=1455s) while writing and it gives nice royal vibes (although the music is mainly baratheon/ lannister)

King's Landing 121 AC

On board of the galley that brought them to King's Landing she opened Aemond's letter and read it carefully. As for now she was very glad that Vaenar was to stay in Pentos, or else he would let her no peace and try to snatch the letter out of her hand. He might have been fair and harmonious, but even he would try everything to annoy his younger sister. Especially if she was reading _love letters_ as he claimed them to be. To her own good her brother decided against the voyage and kept focusing on his training. 

The journey across the narrow sea takes about four days from city to city. Luckily they had lived in harbour towns, as travel on land would be so much longer over the same distance. She could only imagine how fast one could be on dragonback. Unfortunately she had never asked her father, although she might soon find this out herself. 

Due to the rash speed at which their letters were able to go between the Capital and the Free City, Aemond and her exchanged letters very regularly. She would receive and return letters at least once a fortnight. If there had not been a big scandal such as her father marrying his niece, he just told her about the daily happenings in the Red Keep. Most of it had been boring but she still enjoyed every word written by him, although she much appreciated every time he had told her about flying Vhagar. A moon after the accident he was first able to mount his dragon once more. 

They arrived at the Harbor and entered the city through the River Gate. Much like Pentos King’s Landing was surrounded by tall walls protecting the population inside. Seated inside a carriage, they were brought along the River Row upward Aegon’s High Hill. The city was dotted with manses, arbors, granaries, brick storehouses, timbered inns, merchant stalls, taverns, graveyards and brothels. Buildings stood wall against wall. The streets however were wide and lined with trees along the sides. Inside the Red Keep they were greeted by Ser Otto Hightower, who brought them to their quarters within Maegor’s Holdfast. First they should rest first and then freshen up to attend supper with the King and the Queen and their children. 

Their apartment consisted of a grand room with connected bed chambers on each side. In the middle of the main chamber stood a wooden table on top of a richly detailed carpet with four armchairs around them. Located on one wall was a large fireplace decorated with dragons on the pillars and it filled the entire room with a pleasant warmth. In front of them stood two velvet armchairs the colour of a deep purple. On the opposite side, windows looked down the blackwater bay. Glad they did not have to face the city and endure the smells of thousands of people and animals alike within their own walls. Vaenyas bedchamber was filled with a four poster bed, the canopy as well as the bedsheets were made out of exquisite burgundy silk. Next to the window the handmaidens had placed a tub out of wood lined with fabric. After she took her bath, she came to the decision to explore the Keep on her own. Much to her ease she had found the chest with the belongings she had brought with her. Choosing a simple dress, she sneaked out of their rooms. Her mother had withdrawn into her own bedchambers for now. 

Trying her best to remember which hallways and corridors they had walked in, she finally found herself on a balcony overlooking the courtyard. The view made her chuckle. Outside Aegon and Aemond were training with each other. Daeron as well as the Lord Commander and the master of arms stood around them and watched. Aemond was clearly the better of the two, moving too fast for his brother with swift steps avoiding every strike. He did train with sword previously but the extra instructions by her father and the Lord Commander of the King’s Guard fitted to his new needs must have worked quite well. He wore an eye patch made of black leather, ornamented with gold threat covering his eye socket. She did spend some time watching them, if it was to her she would run down the stairs and join the few lower nobles and servants in the crowd, but that would have been improper before their official greeting that was planned for this evening. 

Back into her rooms she changed again, this time into a dress fitting a royal banquet. It was made out of silk the colour of a pale sage green that complimented her eyes very well. The fabric fell loose over her body. Since both her shoulders and arms had been uncovered she wore a shawl, the same colour yet more transparent, over her dress. Her hair was left loose, some strands that would fall into her face were pinned back with a pin made out of carved dragon bone. It depicted several dragons tangled together, the piece was a relic still from old Valyria. Finishing up she put on two rings, a golden one with a ruby set in the middle of several sparkling diamonds, the other one was in the shape of a dragon wringing around her finger with a round black onyx in its snout. It too was made out of dragon’s bone and accompanied her hair pin beautifully. Lastly she placed a dainty silver necklace around her neck, from it hung the pearl they had found on the shore of Driftmark last year. 

* * *

The reception and belonging banquet went very well. The King had thanked her mother multiple times for accepting his invitation, yet Taeleste only laughed that she was here on her daughter's behalf. To Vaenya was good to see her cousins again, she laughed with Helaena, asked Daeron about Oldtown and politely let Aemond explain how they had put Vhagar into the Dragonpit for the first time in almost two decades and how she barely fit inside. Of course she already knew all of this from his letters to her but she did not mind hearing it again out of his mouth. She was even able to throw some jabs with Aegon, who was busy shoving his face with food and drink most of the time. 

Just as last year, Vaenya had found that the Queen had taken a liking in her. She could make out a warmth beneath her usually cold courtesies. Towards the end of the meal the king turned to Vaenya and Aemond and announced: 

“Tomorrow we will celebrate the name day of both my son Prince Aemond Targaryen as well as my niece Lady Vaenya Belaerys. For this special occasion we welcomed our dear members of family here in the Capital of Westeros. To celebrate further we shall have another Feast tomorrow!” 

“Not another feast.” Aemond said under his breath while he rolled his eyes. His fathers obsessive eating in drinking was much to his distaste. 

“I can still remember when my brother and I were this age.” Viserys continued, his eye slightly twitching as he talked about his brother, “we would meet early in the morning to break our fast together. Vaenya, you are a daughter of my brother Daemon, Aemond you are my son, I think we should let this tradition continue. And who would be better than those who share their name day!” 

The King's announcements were met with cheering as Vaenya started to feel uneasy at all the attention that was currently directed at her. Aemond of course did not, he was used to such exclamations.

* * *

The next morning she was woken up by a handmaid standing next to her bed.

“I am here to wake you and assist you in dressing for your meal with the Price my lady.”

She looked outside the windows, where the sun was slowly rising over Blackwater Bay. Two basins of water were already brought into her chambers and her dress for today lay carefully on a big chest. 

“What was your name again?” She turned to the Handmaiden, who was now making her bed. 

“Arlene Hightower, my lady.” As a minor member of House Hightower and a distant cousin of the Queen she was sent to King’s Landing. For the duration of their stay, Arlene was assigned to her. The girl, who was barely older than her, had braided ashblode hair and a lovely smile. 

Walking to the basins of water she rinsed her face in the one with rose petals swimming in it, and cleaned herself with the water of the second basin and a linen cloth. 

“Would you be so kind and braid my hair like yours today, Arlene?” 

She smiled and curtsied slightly. 

Looking in the mirror she admired her dress. It was long sleeved out of pale pink silk. With silver thread hundreds of small stars were woven into the fabric, making it every time she moved. The long silver hair was braided and hung on her side down to her waist. As for jewelry she only wore the dainty pearl necklace, perchange he would recognize it. 

Walking into the grand room, her mother greeted her warmly, pulling her into a hug. 

“What a fine young Lady my daughter has become.” Taeleste dried a small tear rolling down her cheek. 

Servants were buzzing around her, bringing trays of food, jugs of drinks as well as dishes and a beautiful candelabra that they put in the middle of the table, which was now covered in an embroidered tablecloth. 

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug and wished her the best for her name day over and over. She herself was to eat with the Queen in her chambers this morning and therefore dressed accordingly in a green and gold wool dress. 

With a knock on the door Aemond stepped inside. All the servants as well as Vaenya and her mother curtsied in front of the prince. He was dressed in a fine tunic made out of a deep red velvet and silk with gold applications. On his right hand he wore a heavy golden ring which was adorned with the Targaryen symbol of the three headed dragon set in rubies. Covering his once eye was again the same leather patch he had worn the other day. He had cut his hair since last year. While it had been long enough to reach the middle of the back, it now even failed to touch his shoulders. The curls were of such a pale silvery colour it shone almost white with hints of blue and purple tones within. Aemond stood tall for his age, looking every way the royal prince that he was. 

“Your Grace, may I grant you a most marvelous name day. It brings me the deepest joy that his Grace the King had the excellent idea to start your shared day of celebration in this manner. I do wish the two you a pleasant time.” 

Aemond thanked her, before Taeleste curtsied once more and excused herself, leaving the room in the direction of the Queens quarters. The servants left along with her, leaving only Vaenya and her cousin in the room. The Kingsguard that had come with him stood outside the door, leaving them in relative privacy. Both stared at each other until Aemond broke out in a wide smile. He strode towards her, holding her arms he politely placed a kiss on each of her cheeks. With a little hesitation he pulled her into a hug. “Happy Name Day my dear cousin. Would you like to take a seat?” He pulled a chair out for her to sit. 

After they only had met during the official feast last night, this gesture felt refreshingly intimate. She wondered why she suddenly felt slightly nervous. During the last months of their letter exchange, he was the person she could freely tell everything that was on her mind. Their brief encounter on Driftmark has quickly turned into a solid friendship. Her mother, and at last his own Mother too, must have realized this as well. Now his presence made her feel comfortable and coy at the same time.

They broke their fast on freshly baked bread, goat cheese, grilled fish, olives, as well as fresh grapes, figs and more fruits. They must have been told that those were her favourite things to eat in the morning. Aemond preferred the fish and mostly ignored bread and sweet fruits, he was to become a great warrior and therefore had to eat accordingly, as he proclaimed proudly. Vaenya laughed at the determination of a one and ten year old and threw a grape at him. This only challenged him of course and he made sure to hit her in the face with a fruit as well. It was just like the previous year as they were childishly attacking each other with rocks and pebbles on the shore. Before things were about to escalate and the Kingsguard would wonder what was the reason for their hysterical laughter, she tried to ask how his siblings enjoyed their presents. 

“Helaena was already showing sewing patterns to the court's seamstresses. Daeron is sad and does not want to think about leaving just yet. He is too soft, this will only make it worse.”

“He is seven, a little boy. Daeron has every right to be scared about having to leave his home and family.” 

Aemond only answered with a snarl. 

“While we are talking about presents,” he tried to change back to the previous topic of their conversation and called Ser Thorne in, who handled him a small chest “a Name Day calls for an appropriate gift.” 

Opening it, she saw a set of riding leathers in a light creme colour. It was decorated with cuffs and rivets of polished silver. The material felt as soft as velvet melting beneath her touch. 

“These are so beautiful! Thank you.” She beamed at him. 

“It is made out from the finest Ostrich leather from dorne. I also have a set made for myself in the same style, only dyed black. I saw how you wear light colours most of the time and guessed that you preferred those. I do plan on taking you with me to Vhagar later this day. Perchange she will let you try out your new riding leathers.” 

Stunned, she stared at him. Surely she had ridden on this very dragon before, but that was with Lady Laena who owned Vhagar for many years and knew her dragon and her moods very well. Vhagar could easily reject her mere presence, trying to ride her could be a dangerous venture. However she tried to hide her doubts, as a part inside of her could not wait until she saw the magnificent dragon again. 

Remembering her own present for Aemond she quickly moved into her bedchambers. Coming back with a small velvet coated box in her hand, which she gave to her cousin. 

Opening it he looked confused, “That is a big stone, rather heavy,” examining it and holding it against the light. 

Vaenya explained her confrontation with the supposed pirate on the harbour in Pentos. He made sure to paint him in a much scarier and terrifying way as he truly was and how fitting the gleaming gem stone was inside his eye socket. 

“If I understand, you want me to put this stone into my eye socket?” 

“Exactly! The eye patch must hinder you, not only in training and flying. Also the band around your head is getting looser and it could possibly fall off. Although I believe that it is perfectly dashing on you my Prince.” She said the latter part rather quickly, to reassure him. 

The mention of his cut out eye still made him uncomfortable. But she had seen how he had his problems with the patch the other day as she watched him train in the courtyard. 

“The sapphire is mine. I got it as part of a necklace for my own Name Day a year ago, I did however never like it very much. But I had worn it the night before it happened and thought it might be befitting.” She felt like she had to explain her motive even further, but his face began to lighten up. 

“Would you mind helping me putting it in then?” 

“With pleasure.” Convincing him has been easier than she thought. Back inside her room she has asked her maid Arlene to put a kettle over the fire inside the herd. Under his watchful eye she took the gemstone out of his hand and slid it into the hot water. With a clean spoon she carefully removed it after a minute. Still inside the spoon she placed it back onto the table, waiting for it to cool down. 

Meanwhile Aemond had taken his eye patch off. Last year she avoided to directly look at his wound. It was a gruesome sight while still fresh, pumping red blood out at every second. Later it was gladly covered by thick bandages. Now however, it was right there in front of her. The dagger has left a long jagged scar that went from his forehead through the right eyebrow ending in the middle of his cheekbone. Between lay a dark hole that was once filled with a bright violet eye. His eyelids were cut as well, but he could still move them enough to almost close them shut. 

Seeing him like this brought back the memories from the previous year, while she sat on the stable ground with Aemond’s bleeding head in her lap. Trying to rid hersef from this picture she scrubbed her hands with water and a piece of soap. 

The sapphire was cold to the touch now. Aemond leaned close to her, as she told him to hold his lids open carefully. With the utter most care she slowly pressed it between his flesh, avoiding to cringe at this bizzare action. With a further push it fixed itself inside his eye socket. The gemstone was cut and sanded to be in a round shape to one side in order to fit more with the pearls surrounding it on the necklace. Now the roundness prevented further pain to her cousin's flesh, repurposed as a replacement for an eye. The other side, now visible on his face, was cut into multiple facets that were reflecting the light and let it gleam beautifully. 

Yet Aemonds face stood distorted inches from her own. 

“It feels… strangely foreign.” He was trying to find a way to describe the sensation of an object inside of there.

“You can take it out anytime. It was a bad suggestion of mine, I do not wish for you to be in pain.” She retorted from her seemingly terrible idea. 

“I never said such a thing. On the contrary I must say that I quite enjoy this, Vaenya.” Now viewing himself in the small mirror she handed him.

“Do you already feel like a fear spreading Pirate from the Basilisk Islands, my Prince?” She smiled at him relieved, earning a mischievous grin from her cousin in return.

* * *

As promised he took her to his dragon later the same day. In matching riding leathers they now stood in front of Vhagar. The absence of his eyepatch caused some of the Dragonkeepers to look twice at the prince. He was wearing his new sapphire proudly, holding his head up high. Surely he could be terribly arrogant if he wanted. 

“You cannot imagine what it is like to have bonded with a dragon.” He told her, “It is as if you have two hearbeats beating inside your chest.” 

Reaching out for her hand he held it to his chest. 

“I only feel one, to speak honestly.” 

“Well, you could not know. It is a special kind of bond. She can understand me and I understand her. We hear each other.” 

“Could you tell her then, not to burn me alive?” 

“She would not do such a thing. Vhagar knows that you are a dear friend of mine. She would not harm you.” 

Softly touching her snout she could feel the hard scales beneath her fingers, her bright green eyes however were kind. 

“Come on, sit behind me and fasten your riding chains.” He was already sitting in his saddle, looking down to her. 

It has been many years since she last sat on the dragon, while she was still a young child. But the dragon seemed to have grown even bigger and she had her trouble climbing on top of it. With a hilt of her wings Vhagar assisted her, the dragon must obviously have accepted her. Even with secured chains she was holding onto her cousin sitting in front of her, as the dome was opened and they started to ascend. 

Riding a dragon was a lot like riding a horse. Only that the hose was much bigger, flying around fifty yards over the roofs of King’s Landing and was also able to spew deadly fire. On top of that it was much smoother, Vhagar was not a young and nimble dragon anymore; securely lying in the air, she is harmless against winds. 

Her stomach was prickling with excitement as they were circling the Red Keep. Vhagar’s wings sounded like thunder during a storm and many people looked up bewondered by the noise on this sunny day. On the ground everyone looked like ants, small and insignificant. 

Once Queen Visenya roamed these very skies in the same dragon. Being in her place felt like the greatest honour to her. This was the greatest power of the Targaryens, who else could still control beasts like these. Vaenya had never felt this free, strong, happy and powerful at once before. However she could imagine doing this more often as it started to become more and more addicting. 

They did spend a couple of hours flying over King’s Landing, Blackwater Bay and the Kingswood. The wind stung her eyes and her arms became numb from tightly wrapping them around Aemond in front of her. But little did she care. As they landed back on the ground her legs felt wobbly and she was both incredibly tired and hungry. Luckily there would be another, greater feast this evening she remembered.


	6. Greensleeves

King’s Landing 122 AC

  
  


As agreed, they once again left Pentos to sail across the water to King’s Landing. Mirroring the previous year they had spent time feasting, celebrating, flying and sneaking through the city. On their Name Day, Vaenya and Aemond once began breaking their fast together, this time on the balconies of his chambers as the weather allowed it. The summer was slowly coming to an end, but before autumn would arrive, the warm season showed itself in all its glory. The entire city was melting beneath the heat. Aemond took her with him on Vhagar often these weeks. The dragonscales felt uncomfortably warm between her legs and as much as she loved to fly, hiding in the Keep’s cold storage rooms was much to her delight. 

Everyone in court was busy which allowed Vaenya and Aemond to explore the castle on their own. As one could not spend much time outside without sweating, they sneaked through the dark corridors; eventually finding themselves in much different places than they expected. 

The Red Keep and the Maegor’s Holdfast were littered with a Labyrinth of secret tunnels and paths within the walls. Maegor himself let these being built by workers who were murdered in cold blood afterwards, no one but him was supposed to know their exact structure. She surely doubted at, there must have been quite some use to these secret passageways in the last century since its construction. So she recalled her own father, telling her how he sneaked out of the castle as a young prince. It was out of question that she now had to find out for herself, dragging Aemond with her of course. 

One such time they had found themselves in a dark room on the level of the kitchens. It was slightly below ground level with small windows located near the ceiling. Standing on storage boxes and barrels they looked out onto the street. Many high and low nobles were arriving in the city these days. They came riding, with their wifes and children in carriages behind them, followed by a garrison of stewards, knights and squires. All brought chests of luggage and small treasures with them. 

Their arrival was the reason why Vaenya had spent longer in King’s Landing than before. The court and therefore the capital prepared for a royal wedding. The Targaryens, according to Traditions of Old Valyria, kept marrying inside their own family. Therefore prince Aegon was to wed his sister, princess Helaena. The conqueror took his sisters to wife, both of them not just one. His successors Aegon the uncrowned and Jaehaerys continued and took both their sisters as wife. At this point it was essential, not only to strengthen the still young united Kingdoms but also to keep the blood clean. The ability to bond with Dragons was inherited through one's parents. Marrying brother to sister, as well as uncle to niece or aunt to nephew was a common thing in Valyria. And in House Targaryen. It did, however, also avoid marrying their daughters into other houses, ridding them of the possible to birth future dragon riders. This had the potential to destabilize the Targaryens claim as the only surviving Dragonlords left in the known world. 

King Viserys’ younger children by Alicent Hightower were all only half Targaryens, as the Queen was of the House of Oldtown of Andal origin. Although all four of their children inherited their fathers Valyrian features and were dragonriders, marrying the oldest of the siblings to each other would ensure not to dilute the blood even further. The idea of marrying her own brother sounds hideous to Vaenya. She loved him for sure, but as a sister loved her brother, who's last names were not Targaryen. 

Vaenar had been betrothed for some time to the daughter of the Archon of Tyrosh. Their marriage should strengthen the bond between the two cities as part of an agreement of the Triarchy. She did meet the girl once before, her name was Melis and she was of great valyrian beauty with purple eyes and silver gold hair, which she enjoyed dying different colours in tyroshi tradition. Their wedding was to take place in a years time, after Vaenar would move to Braavos to start working for the Iron Bank. 

Her brother did come with them to King’s Landing, as a guest to a royal wedding he could spare some time away from his teachers in Pentos. In the mornings he would partake in the courts sparring and prove himself against the Keep’s Master of Arms and the King's Guards. His Valyrian Steel sword compensated for his lack of ability and talent in combat. The blade brought many onlookers to the daily morning training and earned many jealous looks by squires and knights alike. Among them were also their cousins Aegon and Aemond, while the Targaryens did possess two swords of that kind, neither prince kept one to their belts. 

Blackfyre, the longsword of the Targaryen Kings which once belonged to Aegon the Dragon himself, now hung on King Viserys’ hip. The King never was a Warrior and therefore the blade looked more than useless on him. According to succession Blackfyre was to be passed to the next sovereign of the Realm, to the current succession Rhaenyra will therefore inherit it. If she would put the sword to better use is to question another time. The other sword of House Targaryen was warrior Queen Visenya's Dark Sister, currently in possession of her father, Prince Daemon Targaryen. With the blade he caused a whole lot of damage in the stepstones and beyond, saying the sword _has a thirst for blood_. Truely, sticking his sword into other people has always been his favourite thing. Dark Sister was given to the best warrior of House Targaryen. Before Daemon, his father Prince Baelon called it his own.

The morning of the wedding, she was to spend time with the bride, Princess Helaena. It was a custom in the reach for the bride to break her fast together with the women of her family the morning before the wedding would take place. Attending among minor ladies of house Hightower who worked as handmaidens, were also the Queen and her stepdaughter the Princess of Dragonstone. Although both had a hatred for each other the King persisted in the inclusion of Rhaenyra. 

After her father has taken his niece as wife in a rushed secret ceremony, Viserys had his quarrel with them, nevertheless he was quick to forgive as soon as they showed off their son Aegon in the Capital. Them naming their child Aegon infuriated Queen Alicent. This was just one of many stabs against her own eldest son, who with each son born to his half sister would slide down the line of succession. The Aegon to wed today was therefore called Aegon the elder as his nephew was named as Aegon the younger. Aegon the elder was soon to be put even further down the line of succession as Rhaenyra was once again with child. 

Even before her fourth son was born she already looked bloated, now once again heavy with child she reminded Vaenya more of a fat, homely cook than a princess that was once called the _Realm’s Delight._ More like the Realm’s Heavyweight, she sniggered to herself. The Princess had a taste for sweets and did not shy away from the many different cakes, tarts, biscuits and pastries that were served on the table. 

Although Vaenya did enjoy the company of her cousin Helaena and even Queen Alicent, she was not as comfortable whenever Rhaenyra was closeby. She was known for being spoiled and letting out her temper whenever things did not go as she wanted. 

She was biting into a strawberry, so overripe it bursted, letting juices flow down her hand, when Helaena asked her half sister. 

“Were you nervous as well to be wed?”

“Which one?” Rhaenyra answered disinterested. 

“The fist.” Helaena blushed and timidly put looked to the ground. 

“Oh that one. It was a great ceremony, Father held a tourney in celebration for me and my late Laenor. It is normal for a young bride like you. But do not worry. The worst shall pass once you two consummate your marriage.” Saying the last words sheepishly, making Helaena blush even deeper. 

“That will be part of your duty as a bride. Your brother will make sure to be the most kind and respectful groom to you. You two shall grow as husband and wife.” Queen Alicent spoke to her daughter trying to calm her. 

In truth Aegon had to be married rather sooner than later. Vaenya did hear from his escapades, often he did sneak out of the Keep to have his fun in the pillow houses on the Street of Silk. He was even caught in bed with one of his mothers handmaidens. Aemond did tell her of all this in his letters, much despising his older brothers lust and gluttony. The marriage was arranged, hoping a wife and child would ease the prince of his ways. Helaena was a pleasant and happy girl, she would make a good mother everyone assured. 

Vaenya however felt for her cousin, who could only count one name day more as herself, getting wed at this age was early for sure. 

The conversation topics at the table went from advice for a happy marriage, to the food that would be served, to tips for the wedding night. 

The grand Sept atop Visenya’s Hill was decorated with fresh flowers and stars cut out of parchment and fabric. High nobels, rich merchants and foreign envoys filled the benches inside. She found her place on the second bench next to her mother and brother. Before she could take a seat however, Aemond pulled her arm towards him. As a pince and family of bride and groom he sat right in the front next to King and Queen. Glad that she could speak to him before the wedding begann. They stood behind a marble pillar surrounded by lots of florals. 

“What do you think?” 

“The flowers are a bit much but I will make it through the ceremony without a pumping headache I guess.”

“Not this you fool,” he was winking at the front rank where Rhaenyra sat next to Daemon. “I was talking about your stepmother’s assets.” 

Rhaenyra was dressed in an opulent maroon velvet dress which span tightly over her growing stomach. She was already thick of waist as Vaenya had met her for the first time on Driftmark two years ago, a child and another pregnancy later she did further increase in size. Her bosom has grown larger and looked at if it would spill out of her dress at any given moment. 

“Liking what you see? Her Grace does not leave much to imagination for sure. Are you sad you missed the chance to take a sister for wife as well?” There were few things she enjoyed as much as teasing him about his hatred for said half-sister. 

He gave her a vicious look in return.

“I might ask father to marry you perchance.” His tone now lacked any sarcasm. 

“And why would I agree to that?” 

“I am a prince, who would not want to marry a prince?”

“Me, as it may be? You cannot speak for everyone, cousin.” His serious tone now made her uneasy. 

He was about to open his mouth again, as suddenly the guests were called to take their seat and the ceremony was about to begin. Avoiding any eye contact Aemond walked to his place in front of her. Music started playing as Helaena stepped through the grand entrance with her Father, the King, next to her.

* * *

The ceremony was pleasant although the groom could not help himself to look even more sullen than usual. Throughout the entire festivities she did not spare any time with her cousin Aemond, which could be easily explained by all the obligations he had to attend to. As a royal bastard she would not share such requirements, she could count herself lucky if she was simply allowed to stand in the ranks among the royals. 

A fortnight after the wedding their departure to Pentos was planned. This time they would not leave alone however. Ser Otto suggested that his daughter should go and visit a cousin living in Pentos. Said relative made himself a name as a spice monger, occupying one of the many square red brick towers within the city. On this occasion it would be of everyone’s interest for the Queen to accompany Lady Taeleste and her children on their voyage across the narrow sea. After all they had the best connections in said city for it was planned to negotiate new trade fares with the Magisters. The Queen’s visit would be the first official royal trip of a Westerosi to Essos, after previous nobles had merely chosen the eastern continent as a place for exile. 

In a decision that had once delighted her, her son Aemond would join her. With Daeron returning to Oldtown after the wedding and Aegon and Helaena being left to their marital duties, it was on him to fulfill this role. Nonetheless there was more to that, the prince was well known to be bold, fierce and willful; by accompanying his mother they perhaps hoped for him to return a calmer version of himself, if he was to attend diplomatic negotiations. Or the court just wanted to rid themselves of him for a moon or two. 

Too busy with packing, Vaenya ignored his recent behaviour. He had never been the most pleasant company and was notorious for his hot temper but so far she was able to handle his moods, in their still growing friendship. Adding to this he was ignoring her if the chance was given. 

Days before their departure a huge storm was starting to build itself up over Blackwater Bay. Summer was coming to an end and more autumn storms started to occur. They did not know how long this would have to extend their stay any further since the storm made a journey even by the great royal three-masted-barque impossible. Unfortunately a great annual assembly of the richest and most important Magisters and families of Pentos was to take place in more than a fortnight's time. Delegates and envoys from the triarchy were to be expected also. As well as Taeleste Belaerys and Queen Alicent. If they insisted on waiting for the clouds to pass they would miss it. 

Lord Massey of Stone Dance had suggested they set sail on the harbour of his house's seat on Massey’s Hook. The eastern waters around these lands were known not to be affected by any storms in Blackwater Bay. Ships coming from south to King’s Landing had to sail around this spit of land. It had also been the shortest direct connection from the westerosi mainland to Pentos. 

That was how Vaenya had found herself inside a carriage going south along the Kingsroad. Her mother sat alongside the Queen in another carriage in front of hers, the one she sat was not as elegant or steady going as the one housing the Queen, and the constant wobbling caused by the muddy road made her sick. For some reason she did not mind being aboard a ship or hastingly flying through the air, but this way of transport did not go well on her stomach. More than once they had to interrupt their journey so that Vaenya could quickly catch some breaths of fresh air on steady ground. All this was much to the amusement of her brother, who would not stop throwing japes at her incapability for simply sitting inside a horse pulled carriage. 

They did follow the Kingsroad until they took rest at Wendwater Bridge. For the entire trip so far, Aemond had flown on Vhagar above them. He insisted on arriving at Pentos along his dragon; it would serve the respect for the Targaryen powers in front of the pentoshi spice mongers, or so he convinced his mother. As long as he would stay in sight and refused from staying alone for too long he could spend his travels on dragonback. Vaenya only welcomed it, since she did not want to sit for hours a day in silence next to her cousin, who for whichever reason did only talk to her if he must. 

As they got going again after their brief halt, the winds were starting to grow stronger. In order to make it in time to Stone Dance they would be now going through the night as well. Aemond was therefore grounded and forced to join their own carriage. Throughout the day she had spent the time reading valyrian scrolls that were gifted to her from the King’s libraries, so she could easily avoid any conversation with the two she had to share the small space with. Vaenar was very quiet and kept to himself if they were not alone, now he sat opposite of her with a grim expression on his face. At least it was silent enough for her to listen to the sounds of the horses clattering loudly echoing into the night of the surrounding Kingswood. The noises were rhythmic and calming; she soon drifted away. 

Waking up an unknown time later, her brother across was in a deep sleep. He had held close to a cushion and threw his head back into the headpiece. With his mouth wide open and eyes moving fast beneath closed lids he resembled more a fish than the blood of old valyria. Next to her she felt Aemond being closer to her than previously, his sheer heat radiating on her left side. Seemingly asleep he has rested his head on her shoulders, the soft hair was tickling her neck. Her left hand was held down with a slight pressure where he had put his hand on top of hers. This close intimate contact was new and she had yet to decide what she would think of it. Though seeing him next to her instead of facing the other end of the seat, reassured her of their fondness of each other after the last week of silence. 

In this moment she was glad not to spend the journey in the bigger carriage, her mother sat in together with the Queen and a handful of handmaidens. With her brother staying silent and her cousin staying close to her, she was enjoying the nightly ride. 

The next day they finally reached Stone Dance late in the evening. The weather had worsened here as well and a storm was roaring in the sky above. The steward of the castle however assured them that it would all be over in the morrow and they could finally set sail to Pentos. The castle was rather small and stood a bit off the cliffs, overlooking the narrow sea. On one side it was surrounded by the thick forest of the Kingswoord, on two others lay only rocky terrain which was broken by the passway to sharppoint at the end of Massey’s Hook. 

As they stepped out of their wagon and waited for the servants to finish greeting the Queen and her entourage, Vaenya spotted a flash of red fur in the darkness. Walking closer towards, she made out a fox pup that looked as if it was alone and hurt, abandoned by its mother. With quick movements she tried to catch it and to bring it inside. The animal however was fast and ran deeper into the woods. All her mother could do was to catch a glimpse of her running into the forest before she disappeared. 

The little fox was much more nimble and able to avoid being caught. In vain she tried to grab it and had only ran further into the deep and dark woods. After all the sitting moving her legs was a welcomed change and running felt so good! She ran until her legs would no longer carry her and her lungs started to burn. Although the Hook was long and narrow, there was still enough room for this dense forest. 

At one point she had found herself in the middle of a clearing illuminated by the full moon above. She could not make out any noise coming from the castle, all she heard was the sounds the trees had brought forth. Apart from the moonlight it was pitch black and fog hung low, the air was getting colder and she started to shiver. 

While they were still on the Kingsroad Vaenar had told her that the Kingswood is haunted and home to many a restless soul that died on these grounds in the many wars of the past centuries. Standing here alone she realized where these tales came from. The wind in the branches of the trees combined with the rush of the nearby shore created a hauntingly disturbing noise that let the hair on her back stand up. Crows were screaming around her and she started to hear something alike a song, sung by a very distant voice. Hopefully her mind was playing tricks on her, yet she was lost. Everything tree looked like the one next to it, she did not know how she would find her way back. 

Cursing the stupid fox she slowly walked around the round clearing. The storm seemed to be less intense over the woods. Clouds hang in the sky only letting the moon shine through every now and then, if the sky was clear she could perchance find her way out using the stars above like sailors did at night. Too bad, she could make out a mere three stars in the sky and admittedly she was not talented enough at astronomy to orientate using the star constellations. In her head the singing turned into a chant, eerily reminding her of the choir that sang during Aegon's and Helaena’s wedding inside the great sept. She had hoped dearly that it had only been in her head. Sitting down on the damp moss she hid her head between her thighs, maybe she could look for a way out in the marrow. Maybe they would send people to look for her, if they could even find a way through this maze of fog and branches. The night was however cold, her skin covered in gooseflesh and her entire body violently shaking. Closing her eyes she hoped for daybreak, hoping not having to see whatever lies between these trees. 

She did not know how long she was humming to herself, leaning on a tree wishing her into another place. The night was still as cold and damp. If she kept very still she could make out a noise behind her that she did not notice before. It sounded like steps, maybe from a big animal? Quickly she recalled that there were bears in the Kingswood. Her father has told her how he had shot one with an arrow during a hunting trip. Trying to make herself even smaller than she already was, Vaenya hoped for whatever beast to pass. But the steps were coming closer to her, they sounded steady and determined. 

All of the sudden they had stopped next to her, in the dim light she could make out a slight figure. Maybe it was a criminal hiding in the woods, maybe she could convince him to demand a ransom, maybe she would not believe her and do unspeakable things to her. 

“Gods there you are!” 

She knew that voice. She knew that it was no strange vagabond wishing her ill intent. Quickly she got up and stepped towards the shape. Her cousin Aemond stood in front of her as if he had seen a ghost; maybe he did, walking through these woods, she thought. Throwing her arms around him she started to sobb miserably. He put his dark emerald travelling cloak around her; thankful for the sudden warmth she let go of him. 

“I apologize ... I should not … but there was a --” she tried to explain herself getting lost. A crow was flying just above them and she flinched frightened. 

Aemond just shook his head, his face was full of worry. He did not stand taller than Vaenya this year, their eyes met on the same level. Taking her face into his hands he pulled her to him so that their foreheads would touch. She could feel his breath on her skin. It went slow and steady, calming her down in the progress.

“We need to leave this place. You need a warm bath or you shall be sick tomorrow.”

As he pulled his arm around her shoulders to steady her, both began to walk. He must have known the direction back to the castle as he was walking straight forward. 

They were going in relative silence. Closely next to her Aemond was emitting warmth she could feel through the cloak he put around her shoulders. It was awkward, they had not spoken about the last time or why he acted the way he did; while obviously still seeking her vicinity. Stopping in her tracks she faced him straightforward. 

“Why did you ignore me?”

“What-”

“You did not talk to me, you went out of my way, you barely looked at me. You are my friend, and yet all you do is treat me like I am invisible for the past fortnight. Then I find you sleeping on my shoulder in the carriage. Could you please explain what is going on?” 

Aemond remained silent. 

“There you are doing it again.” 

“I was hu-- “ he began to stammer, “no, i was offended.” 

She stopped in her tracks. _No, he could not mean this seriously._

Demanding an answer she looked to him. The sapphire, her own gemstone, gleamed bright with the moonlight on his face. 

“What you have been suggesting there, during the wedding… it was asking quite a lot.” 

His jaw tightened. “Why is that?”

“If you were honest about it, you must know that it would not be possible. No matter if we both agreed to it.” 

“There are ways. You are my cousin, you are my best friend. We are of the same old blood. Why should my father not agree to letting us two be wed.”

Hearing him speak it aloud felt like getting hit in the stomach. They were two and ten, they should not think about such matters at this age. But Aemond was a prince, getting betrothed at this age would not be strange. 

“Because I am a bastard.” She was shouting now, her voice cracking with desperation, “I am not highborn, not from your lands. It would not be appropriate for you to marry someone of my status.” 

The honesty stung deep in her throat. 

“I do not wish for a boring and plain daughter of some lord beneath me, that would curtsy nicely and then spend the rest of her days with needlework and gossiping. Someone like this would not want to have me either. You are the only one who likes me, I suppose.” 

His usual arrogance was replaced by a sadness in his tone. 

Slowly his facade was breaking apart. He was always seen as the wild and fierce prince, a second son, not important enough to be a potential heir to the throne, not pleasant enough to be sent away to foster. He always stood in the shadow of his siblings, always tried to be heard. His father did not have much love and affection left for him and his mother also had her clear favourites. He did exell his older brother in almost everything, but no one seemed to notice, no one cared. 

Until now she always thought that he did not care either, obviously he had better things to worry about. But he too was just a boy of two and ten who was aware that no one liked him. 

Aemond is not the type to take personal disappointments well, since he was raised to expect only the best effort from everyone, which is the type of role a younger brother would play. That was what eventually led to him bonding with Vhagar, since he thought that having the biggest dragon in existence would make him strong and thus relying only on himself when everyone else had failed him. All he had left was to train, increasing his anger even further. But it would also bring out the most dastardly sides of him. He knew he was not liked much, neither by his parents nor by his relatives or the court. They would not start doing it in the future either, so all he could do is make them respect him. 

Him telling her that no one would want him might have been too far reaching for a prince, as many lords would happily throw their daughters at him just to get a foot in the keep. But his brutal honesty broke her heart. She would want him, but could not force herself to say so. 

Never had she recalled him telling her of a friend he had in the capital, not for now or even a former one. He had teachers, trainers and his siblings; but no true friend. 

She was amused how, in his letters, he told her about every small detail about the happenings in court, while he must be happy just to have someone to talk. Aemond was alone within a court constantly filled with thousands of people. 

He laid his emotions bare and yet she ridiculed him, hurting him with the truth.

* * *

Eventually they did find their way out of the woods. They walked in silence, with things left unsaid between the two of them. Throughout the entire time she would not let go of his arm, not just to avoid getting lost by accident, but mostly to assure him that she was there. She had to fight hard suppressing her tears, the cold air stung on her exposed skin and she was incredibly tired; but the coldness she felt from within had been worse. 

She spent the night wrapped around her mother, sharing her bed. Taeleste had been terribly worried about her temporarily lost daughter and had sent out Vaenar as well as a handful of guards looking for Vaenya through the woods. None of them was successful, though as it was Aemond who had eventually found her. “I felt like I knew where she was'' was all he commented on the matter before withdrawing into his chambers for the night. 

After three days aboard the carvel Lord Massey had left them for use, they arrived in Pentos. The wind was kind to them and sped up the voyage. 

As they were escorted to Magister Nestion’s manse all the estate's inhabitants, servants and nobles alike stood in front of the grand house to greet the royal guests accordingly. 

Having to witness the same procedure just days prior got boring quickly, however there was nothing alike looking into the peoples faces who saw a dragon for the first time. Vhagar circled over the Bay for some time before she landed in the brickyard which was the only place she found enough space to lie down. 

After the great welcome feast at night she finally stood in her room. It has been some turns of the moons since she had left it. Facing the gardens and the bay, a light breeze came through the window. In contrast to the lands of Westeros they left mere days ago, the weather in Pentos was as nice and warm as she has always known it. Her own room also looked much different than the one she had occupied inside Maegor’s Holdfast within the Red Keep for the past weeks. The walls were the same white marble like the facade, on the floor many carpets from Quarth, Norvvos and Qohor as well as a dozen of cushions were laid out; the fabrics gave the place a homely atmosphere. In one corner stood a small table with two stools around it, on top servants lighted some incense. On the other side of the room a few chests were opened, next to it was her vanity with a myrrish mirror above. Her bed was a simple frame without a canopy covering it, the mattress filled with dense wool was upholstered with a fine and cooling silk. It has been placed directly beneath the window, as she loved to watch the stars on a warm summer night such as today. If it would get cooler during the winter season a herd was built in another corner; it was decorated with a mosaic depicting the maidens of the field and sea. 

Unfortunately they would soon have to move out of this great house, leaving the only place she had ever called home. Her mother was to go to Braavos, in an agreement with the Iron Bank, she would accept her duty as a Key Holder and start to overlook the work within the much famous institution. Vaenar would also be introduced to the processions of the bank, as he was to take on this role in later life. Vaenya would miss the manse, the gardens, the city and most of all Magister Nestion dearly, for he had always been the single father figure in her life. Yet she did not want to be without her mother and brother, it was a terrible decision to make - either choose your home or your family. In the end it was Taeleste who would not want to leave her behind.

Laying on top of her bed, wrapped in a light wool blanket, she heard a faint knocking on her door. Opening it just slightly she saw her cousin holding a tray of figs in his hand, demanding to be let in. Hastingly looking through the hallway she pushed him in. 

“Did someone see you?” Neither her own mother or the Queen would be amused to see Aemond inside her room at this hour of the night. If Vaenar had seen him, he would not stop teasing her about it for weeks, she knew. 

“Nay. And what if they did? We did spend a night sleeping in the same bed before.” 

“So this is what this is about.” She gestured widely at her delighted cousin, “also you were closer to death than you might remember!” 

“I could not sleep and explored the manse on my own. It is rather splendid I must agree, not the Red Keep but quite impressive for a spicemonger. I stole those from the kitchen besides, I know you cannot refuse fresh figs.” He tried to shove a fruit into her face. But he was right, she was never able to refuse a fig before. 

Sitting on the cushions on the floor they ate in silence. 

“That room of yours is lovely I must say. Looks like you.” 

“How can I look like a room? Am I a house?”

“It looks like how I would imagine a room you live in looks.” 

“That is because I have told you about it before in a letter, are you already getting forgetful at such a young age?”

“Perchance.” He climbed onto the bed beneath her woolen blanket. 

“What is all this about?” 

“I am tired.” He yawned. 

“You have your own bed in your own quarters.” 

“Yours is a lot more comfortable.” 

“Then make room for me or I will kick you on the floor.” She raised her eyebrow at him, “I will not treat you like a prince here and abandon all my belongings for you to use.” 

Vaenya did slide next to him, covering herself with another blanket. 

Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked down to her laying on her back with her eyes closed.

“Do you think my brother and sister are now fulfilling their marital duties? My coin is on Aegon spending the night in the bed of one of my sister’s handmaids instead.”

“Bah Aemond! They are your siblings, why would you care about them having carnal knowledge?”

“Surely, but they are also married and that is their duty for now.” 

“Could you please wonder about such things inside that head of yours. Remember that you are still in my room and on my bed!” 

As if he did not listen to her he continued, “I do pity Helaena sometimes, I must admit. I bet that poor thing did not know what happened to her during the bedding.”

“But you are so knowledgeable about it?” Vaenya was shocked about his sudden frankness. 

“More than you, as I know. Aegon has told me everything, how he visits the street of silk and takes pretty servants for himself.” 

Vaenya could only frown at this thought. 

Aegon, the elder, does have his reputation in the capital. According to her mother, a maid has grown with child after Aegon demanded her in his chambers one time, the girl had been sent away afterwards. That Aegon told his younger brother about his whoring came as a surprise to her, but not as much as Aemond now told her about this. He was four years younger than him and too young for the wanton ways Aegon is known for. Besides, Aemond has a distaste for any kind of whoring and gluttony. As far as she knows her cousin, this would not change even with the years. He found great disgust in such ways. 

They had not spoken much since the night she got lost in the forest. His sudden interest in things of that peculiar nature unsettled her immensely. 

However that talk of marriage made her think, she did like Aemond a lot; yet she did not expect him to see her in this way. It had caught her off guard as he told her that he would marry her in this casual way. 

“Aemond did you speak truly when you said you would want to wed me?”

“Why should I lie about this?” 

“To tease me perhaps?” 

“I can do that in other ways, Vaenya. Additionally you are a most beautiful lady, as well as my best friend as I have told you many a time before.” 

“You only call me beautiful because we look much alike.” She jabbed at him, jokingly punching his shoulder “You are as much in love with yourself as you claim to be with me.” 

“Perchance I am, but this does not change how I see you.” He hit back at her in return. 

Giggling they were wrestling with each other. With more force than she possessed he overpowered her, pressing down both of her wrists next to her face. Still eagerly laughing they stopped to catch their breath for a moment, with a rapid move he leaned forward, his face mere inches from hers. 

“Kiss me.” he said leisurely 

“You’re all sticky” the figs they ate in the relative darkness left their residue

“So what? Kiss me.” 

There was still no demand in his voice, no plea either. Chuckling, she pressed her lips on his. It was a sweet and chaste kiss. His lips were soft and tasted like fresh fruit and the contact tingled her own. Once he let go of her, he found his side of the bed again. 

Turning around she saw him with closed eyes already. Holding his hand in hers, she too fell asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had been my favourite chapter to write by far! I tried to combine some of the canon events such as the wedding with an explanation to bring everyones favourite terrible princeling to Pentos. I also tried to dive deeper within his character, as there must be much more than what would one suspect from the surface. 
> 
> Also there were no nice words left for the Realms Delight, but it was viewed out of the perspective of her twelve year old step-daughter who is somewhat jealous that her own father prefers Rhaenyra to her own family. To make it clear, I want Vaenya to have a dislike of her father mainly because he did neglect her and her family and so far nobody can tell if this will eventually settle or just worsen with time as she grows closer and closer to someone who also does not like the rogue prince very much.


	7. The Iron City

Braavos 123 AC

The move to Braavos had been uneventful. She did not yet decide how to feel about her new situation. She did miss Pentos and Trego Nestion who, in a sheer act of kindness, took them in many years ago. On the other side seeing the Free City or Braavos had been quite the sight. Sailing into the lagoon, passing the impressive fortress of the Titan had left her speechless. 

After some weeks they had settled down in their new home. It lay on the northernmost islands of the city. All of Braavos sprawled across hundreds of islands of various sizes in a vast lagoon. Canals lay between the many islands which were connected by many stone bridges. Surrounding said lagoon are tall mountains which almost circled the city perfectly. The house in which they would live from now on was near the purple harbor. This part of the city housed many famous inns, mummers’ playhouses and even brothels. Their house was built out of greystone, just as the rest of the city’s. Most of the houses stood together so crammed they were almost touching. Usually they were slim buildings with peaked tile roofs, standing four or five stories high. Their own place however was bigger and even had a small garden around its walls. It was however nothing compared to the great and luscious gardens they were used to from Pentos. Except for the manses of some nobles there stood no trees in Braavos, there was no green at all in the entire city. Braavos was much bigger than Pentos and the city's bazaars, markets and squares were filled with interesting goods and people. 

The most fascinating thing to her however were the many houses of different deities sprawled throughout city limits. All gods were worshipped in Braavos, therefore one could find many temples within. Most of them were located on the isle of gods. 

Together with her mother she had explored the many small paths and alleyways on foot. They ate in taverns, enjoyed the mummer’s playhouses and avoided the brothels. She grew closer to her mother than she even was before in these few moons since they have left Pentos. Taeleste must have known that her daughter was sad after leaving the only home she had ever known, so she did everything to make the time as pleasant as possible. 

For now she was however more busy. They were preparing for the wedding of Vaenar and his betrothed Melis. A fortnight ago the girl had arrived along with her parents and an entourage of family and servants. Trego did also come from Pentos much to Vaenyas delight. Her father was to come and witness the wedding of his eldest natural born child as well. 

As Caraxes circled in the skies above the city many people were screaming terrified, having seen a dragon for the first time in the flesh. Surely her father just had to get the grandest entrance of all of them. At least he arrived alone as his wife Rhaenyra had just given birth months ago. She also did not think of it as an important enough matter to attend the marriage of her husband's bastard son. 

The wedding was to take place early in the year. In turn this has meant that Vaenya could not visit Westeros and spend her Name Day in the company of her cousin. 

“It is just a day” her mother has told her “your name day comes every year, your brother's wedding just once.” 

In turn her mother has promised her to take the trip across the narrow sea as soon as Vaenar and Melis are wed and she secured her place inside the Iron Bank. There would still be some turns of the moon but at least Vaenya would not get bored in a new and interesting place like this. 

Amongst the many guests were Lord Lysandro Rogare and four of his trueborn children. House Rogare was a rich and powerful banking dynasty who's bloodlines could be traced back to Valyria before the doom. Some generations prior a daughter from Belaerys ancestry married into the Rogare family, thus Taeleste calls Lord Lysandro as her cousin. 

When Vaenya was younger, but after the war in the stepstones was over, they did visit Lys many times. The Island was small but ever so lovely, the weather was warm and the beaches allowed for women to bathe without much disturbance. Lysandro had four trueborn daughters, among them two close to her age. Both too young to marry yet they joined their father and older brothers to Braavos. Orla, the elder one, has always been bold, loud and too clever for her own good. Her father loved her dearly and educated her early on about the power of trade, war, subtle maneuvers and most of all kindness and mercy. It is said that she once will become the true heir to her father, as Lysandro believed his eldest son Lysaro to be incompetent and a great dissapointment. Thus he betrothed Orla to her brother Moredo, he was kinder than his elder brother and cleverer as well. Three years older than Orla he already wielded the family's ancient valyrian steel sword Truth and loved his betrothed sister most of all. 

Orla was her best friend throughout most of her childhood. Although they had lived far from each other, they began writing letters right after they had first met and decided to stay best companions for life. When Vaenya was eight and Orla nine years of age, her Lysene friend visited her in Pentos for many turns of the moon. To this day she recalled this some of the happiest times of her life so far. 

Orla’s younger sister and Lord Lysandro’s youngest child was eight year old Larra. She was a quiet and lovely girl in stark contrast to her flamboyant sister. Much like her siblings she had the silver-gold hair and purple eyes of Valyria. Although younger by a few years, Vaenya had loved Larra just as much as Orla and the three of them were much needed company to her. She almost did not care that her annual journey to King’s Landing was postponed. 

Throughout their stay both had insisted on living with Vaenya in her chambers. They did spend every day and night together. Running around, exploring the city, and once accidentally walking into a brothel, during the day and gossiping at night laying on her much too big bed. Clearly she did tell both of them about the recent encounter, while her cousin from the westerosi capital joined her in Pentos. 

“That little prince surely loves you.” Orla let out in her singing Lysene dialect. 

“How much does a green boy of that age even know of love? He probably only saw the girl closest to him and tried out what he had witnessed in court. It does not mean a thing.” Vaenya tried to rationalize her thoughts. 

“He kissed you right on the lips! In your bed! At night time!” her voice grew shrill. 

“We did the same thing when we were younger!”

“Yes, when we were little girls and practised kissing as many young girls do. How do you expect one to know how to properly kiss? This is not the same, Vaenya and you should go back to your little prince and kiss him on the lips again! Do you want him to think he can do just anything? Are you not a dragon as well?” 

“No! Why would I wish to do such a thing?” she felt her cheeks and neck become hot, yet she did not blush; she never did. 

“Oh please stop lying to everybody and yourself.” Orla just sat there grinning, knowing her cousin very well. 

Little Larra was hiding her face in the cushion while the older girls were talking of things she was much too young for. Vaenya and Orla were rolling around the bed meanwhile, laughing hysterically. 

Vaenya told her that he had only kissed her once, not that they had been spending every day closely together, their mouths moving against each other as soon as they were alone. She also did not tell Orla that they even slept hugging the other tightly, yet it was one of Vaenya’s fondest memories of their shared time in Pentos.

Between running around with her Rogare cousins she did also found time to get to know her brother's future wife better. 

Melis came from a noble family of Tyrosh. The marriage between her and Vaenyas brother was part of a peace agreement between the triarchy. Melis was the daughter of the tyroshi Archeon and a high ranking noble woman from Myr. Vaenar in turn was the son of a powerful Lysene woman and not to forget, Daemon Targaryen, the man who himself caused a lot of damage in the Cities’ region. 

Their father did not add much to the betrothal. He left Taeleste and their children after realizing that she would grant him influence or authority as he had expected. So he went back to King’s Landing to groom his young niece until later he got himself exiled once more and took another wife after his first miraculously died. Daemon had been married before he met her mother, faithful to his wife was he however barely. Little did her mother care, blinded by a handsome young prince riding on a dragon. Sometimes Vaenya did wonder how her life would have looked if her parents would have gotten properly married. Would she now be a princess living at court or at Dragonstone? Would she have a dragon of her own like her half-siblings? Most certainly, her father would have found a way to rid himself of her mother. As he did with everything that stood in his way to eventually end up on the throne. 

Daemon’s marriage to the future heir of Westeros was much the topic of the days preceding the wedding. Not least since he was constantly blaring out how he would be consort and gave the future queen two sons. Vaenar would make a grimace every time he had to witness his father talking. Leave it to her brother to hate their father even more than her and their mother combined. 

Vaenya helped Melis to get ready on the morning of the wedding. Different to themselves and most families of Valyrian origin, Melis keeps the Faith of the Feven. The ceremony would not follow the religion of the Andals in its entirety, but Melis insisted on a cloaking. Her father would therefore remove her maidens cloak, in which she would enter the ceremony, later Vaenar would cover her with his own family's cloak; symbolising how Melis is now under her husband’s protection. House Belaerys neither keeps the Faith of the Seven nor a family cloak. Taeleste thus ordered four seamstresses to make one to keep. The cloak turned out beautifully. 

It was made from two dozen layers of the finest shimmering silk from Naath. The quilting it was covered in, left small diamond shapes all over. In the middle a great dragon was emblazoned with silver thread a tone deeper than its surrounding fabric. On the edges it was embroidered with valyrian love poems, using even more silver and cold thread on flaming red asshai’i silk. The border was lined with the white-grey fur of a winter fox from the north of Westeros. 

The cloak was to symbolize not only their unofficial house colours, but also their ties to trade throughout the seven seas, the association to Asshai and their origin as former valyrian Dragonlords. 

Hoping that one day she would enter a great hall wearing said cloak, Vaenya lost herself in her thoughts.

* * *

The wedding has been a great affair. Melis entered wearing her maiden cloak, brightly coloured in seemingly all the dyes Tyrosh has to offer, still the one Vaenar cloaked her with, left the wedding guests speechless. 

Both bride and groom looked overjoyed. Despite the marriage being arranged, they would make a happy and ever so fortunate couple. 

The guests were departing after the celebrations had ended. With much sadness she had to say goodbye to Orla and Larra, not knowing when they would be able to see each other again. A Voyage from Braavos to Lys would take more than a fortnight, even with good wind and without the pirates interfering. 

Melis did move into their house, together with a handful of servants she did bring with her. Their place however was very quiet and Vaenya suddenly felt alone with all the guests and especially her friends leaving. 

Her mother and Vaenar became a rare sight. Both kept on working and spent plenty of time in the Iron Bank or having important talks and feasts with other equally important nobles and merchants. Her new good-sister mostly kept for herself. She withdrew into her rooms as soon as possible, only being accompanied by her handmaids. Sometimes she was rather fond of her absence for her tyroshi dialect had not been kind on the ears. 

For the time Vaenar was at home she had occupied him fully. For a second, Aemonds wondering about his own siblings’ carnal relations came into her mind. She tried to shake it off but the damage has been done. Every marriage has to be consummated one way or another. 

So far they were still to set a date for their visit to King’s Landing. Her mother could not find the time to leave Braavos as of yet, at the same time Taeleste would not send her off on her own. This uncertainty only frustrated Vaenya further. She tried to distract herself in other ways. 

Letters took longer to arrive from King’s Landing and Lys. It took about a fortnight for an herald to deliver a letter to the capital as for now. Braavos lay further in the north than Pentos and the current autumn storms prolonged any travel by ship. 

The messages she got from Aemond therefore had been fewer than before. He still told her how Helaena carried a child and later gave birth to not just one but two. Aegon accordingly named them Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. He always had a fascination with the Old King, so he decided to name both his firstborns after his grandsire. Much to her cousins, and everybody elses shock, baby Jaehaerys had six fingers on one hand and six toes on each foot. That poor child, Vaenya thought, wedding brother and sister together might not be such a good idea after all. 

She in return told him about the wedding of her own brother, her lyseni cousins and her fathers boasting attitude.

Aemond never mentioned much of the time they did spend back in Pentos, only telling her that he enjoyed it very much.

The days had been warm and kind to them. Many evenings were spent in the gardens feasting on lavishly laid tables. Trego was a most splendid host with the ability to make any guest feel as if they were home. Never has she seen the Queen so carefree and nonchalant. Being out of reach of all the talks and stabbings at court must have been good to her. She however missed her youngest son and wished that he could have been with her as well. Vaenya eavesdropped on Queen Alicent talking to her mother, while she was supposed to be in her rooms already. Luckily Aemond was not listening, although he himself was ever so aware that his mother favoured her youngest son. In Pentos, Aemond came sneaking into her room many times again. Mostly they were talking, reading books and scrolls or just looking out of the window in silence. Or they just tried themselves in kissing a little more, as if they still had to learn how it was done. Him sleeping next to her on her bed became such a constant occurrence that she lay sleepless once he was gone. 

Her bed was not placed below the window in her room in Braavos. If she looked through the window here all she saw was the purple harbour and the hills that surrounded the lagoon which lay in fog ever since they had arrived. It irritated her deeply how much she missed Pentos and her cousin and all the time they had spent together. 

Orla had been right with her perception, Vaenya had grown to like her cousin Aemond far too much, and she did hate herself for it. 

_ What a foolish girl I am falling in love with the silver prince on his dragon just like in those stupid songs.  _

She had the sudden urge to bang her head into the stone walls. 

Her mother stood in the doorframe, rather amused by her daughter's desperate look on her face. 

“Are you this bored already that you start mimicking the mummer's plays?”

She only grunted in response. 

“I want to take you with me. To the meetings in the bank, to the negotiations with the traders and merchants. I want you to be there and learn.” 

“I have a teacher here.” The thought of having to spend her free time in boring gatherings of even more boring old people was more than disencouraging. 

“This was not a question. I will not repeat myself. You are three and ten, it is time you start partaking in the family's interest. Lysandro did tell me how serious Orla takes her duties in education not just in books but current affairs as well.” 

This moment she damned Orla no matter how much she might have loved her. 

“You are determined to speak and act for your family. Vaenya, you are a clever young girl but you have yet to prove yourself. I expect nothing but the uttermost best from you.” Telaeste’s pale lilac eyes were cold with determination. She looked ever so graceful, tall and willowy with her long black hair, glistening like the calm night sea. Her pale skin in contrast with the dark wooden furniture behind her. 

On one hand she did like how her mother counted on her to be a valuable part of the family and how much responsibility she would once hold. On the contrary she knew that these responsibilities would come with much compromises on her part. 

During their first visit to Lys her mother did not only agree to a betrothal of her brother but also one for Vaenya. She was to marry one of Lord Lysandros sons, an older brother to Orla and Larra. He was the heir to his fathers fortune and the future Lord of the Rogare bank. But as disciplined and determined Lord Lysandor’s daughters are, his sons are most rather incapable and foolish. 

Said son, Fredo Rogare, went to Volantis and took a daughter of a minor noble house to wife; thus breaking the agreement. Vaenya did not shed a tear at the loss of her former betrothed, he was much older and denser than her. If the world was any fair she would see herself alone living in Lys, controlling over the trade points with Orla as the head of the Rogare bank on her side. But surely it was no just place and Vaenya had to fit into the role that was meant for her. 

Thinking about her long forgone betrothal and asked her mother. 

“When will I have to marry? When you send me to Lys?” 

The question did not catch Taeleste by surprise. 

“You might be old enough to take your learning more seriously, but this does not mean that you shall be either sent away or married off in near time.” 

“Helaena was as old as I am not when she was wed.” 

“You cousin Helaena...” her mother hesitated, “she is much more robust than you are. As well as she is a princess and the marriage to her brother had been agreed upon by the King and the council for a long time.” 

“Yet she did not want to marry him” she said more to herself 

“She did it out of duty. Princelings are in no position to decide for themselves.” 

Vaenya’s eyes met her mothers. Taeleste’s face softened in understanding.

“My love, I do not wish you any bad faith. My only daughter shall have only the best available to her, as your mother I will make sure of that.”

She was wrapping her arms around her. Pulling her in a tight hug she continued. 

“You might think of yourself as grown but you are still my little girl. In my eyes you will always stay that young girl and there is nothing that will change that. There will come a time eventually when you will leave me, but not before you are of age and ready to decide for yourself.” 

“That would still be three years! What would I even be capable of to decide?”

“Vaenya you have not even flowered yet, for every argument there is a time to speak about and it is not this moment. Trust me darling, you stand in a good position to have a say in such matters.”

Her mother mentioning her physical state only let her bury her face more into her mothers arms. This time more to hide her embarrassment. 

“I love you with all my heart and I shall not give you away as of now, no matter if prince or not.”

She shot her head up immediately. 

“Do you think I did not notice? A mother can sense such things, Vaenya. Truth be told I have once seen the little prince laying in the bed where you were supposed to be.”

Her mothers tone was calm and slightly amused without any accusation or scoring to it. 

“I swear mother nothing has happened to your concern, he had returned a book to me and we did talk until late and must have both fallen asleep. I deeply apologize for our foolishness. Please do not think bad of me. Or him for it was not in his behalf.”

Taeleste sighed deeply. 

“It is truly amusing as he said the very same words to me.”

Vaenya was stunned.  _ He did know of this and never even bothered to tell me.  _

“We had the opportunity to talk for a bit as a matter of fact. I pity him, must admit, he seems to be sad. By all means he does hide it well, but it is still there buried deep within. He was so dismayed by me speaking kindly to him, I doubt he had ever experienced loving words from his mother.” 

She stood there overwhelmed. Not knowing how to answer her mother. 

“However I was assured how much he took a liking to you. Honestly you should have seen how his eyes, or rather his single one, did gleam as he spoke of you.” 

“He said he would talk to his father. He said he would talk to his father the King so he could marry me!”

Taeleste smiled a sad smile. 

“Oh Vaenya. Some things were not meant to be. No matter how much we wish for them. Do not get your hopes up too much, as the son of the King his life is to be decided by the court.” 

“But I do love him! This much I know and if it may be the last thing I ever do. I love him.”

Startled by her sudden confession she felt a tear sliding down her cheek. 

“The one you love, is naught always the one you ought to marry.”

Her mother turned on her heel and left her sitting alone in the dark. 

She felt laughable, dreadful and grotesque and so very, very tired. Since when did she let her emotions take over her? Everything became too much for her and she just wished to be somewhere far far away.  With any last effort she made it back onto her bed until everything finally broke out, leaving her in the darkness crying herself to sleep.

* * *

She lay alone in her room for the next day, embarrassed from her outburst of the last evening. Neither her brother or mother bothered to look for her. 

It was Melis who first stepped into her chamber after many hours. Holding a tray in her hands she brought cheese, figs and watered wine.

“You need to eat.” She sat down on the bed next to her. 

With a tender hand she stroked the hair behind her ears. 

“I never had a sister. But if I did then I would tell her that at three and ten your life is nothing but a confusing mess. Your mind wanders from things to things back and forth constantly. Some you are much too old for and some you are not old enough for yet.” 

Her sharp tyroshi dialect was softer now.

“Sometimes you do not understand your body or your head. Trust me it was the same for me. But this is nothing you must be ashamed for. Your mind matures as your flesh does and you might not understand any of it.” 

“Did your head ever betray you? That you fully well know of a fact, but a part in you betrays any rational thought? Making you feel against your own will?” 

“Vaenya, you will encounter this more than just once in your life. Your head and your heart will often stay in conflict. With life the only advice I have to give you is to not only see the rational fact, do not see it as a matter of political tactics. Every so often it is important what your intuition tells you.”

“I am not the one to make any decisions.” 

“You will have the opportunity earlier than you would expect it. Now get up, there shall be a ball later at the Sea Lords palace. I have heard he keeps a tiger from Leng inside the menagerie, do you not want to see it?” 

Melis promised her that she would go with her to the menagerie, which lay outside the Sea Lords palace, she would not have to face her mother for most of the evening if she could be outside with her good-sister. Glad for the change of surroundings, she got up and let Melis brush her hair. They assisted each other in dressing for the occasion, as her good sister had already sent her maids away. 

“Your hair is a fine colour.” Melis said while braiding her silver strands into two integrate buns following the Braavosi custom. 

She had yet to get used to this rather ludicrous fashion. The knobs on the top of her head made her look more like a rat than a noble daughter. 

“It would be perfect for dying the most beautiful colours. I have brought some dyes with me, perchance another day I could help you with it. A pale violet would look dashing! It would fit your eyes very well.” 

“I like the silver thank you very much.” Vaenya’s voice sounded harsher than she intended to. 

Her good-sister only meant it good for her. Trying to build a sisterly connection. However with the hair she had hit a weak spot. 

Always was her silver hair special. It was so different to her mothers and brothers. Yet it also was not alike the pale blonde hair of her cousins in Lys. Or the stunning silver-gold of her royal cousins and half siblings. Even her father wore his silver locks a tone or two lighter than she did. Her hair was beaten silver, beamng like a fine myrrish mirror if brushed, dull and flat like the autumn sky if neglected. 

Without it she would lose a part of herself, of her identity. No expensive tyroshi dye could replace this. 

They did dress in fabrics of black, dark blue and deep purple, for intensive and dark colours were left to the nobility of Braavos. The common people mostly dressed in practical brown and beige colours. 

In the mirror in front of her stood a perfectly fine young braavosi noble woman. Lookwise she would fit faster into the city’s society than she would ever let herself to. 

The Sealord’s Palace consisted of four interconnected islands, located at the eastern end of the purple harbour. It had many domes and towers, with a golden thunderbolt turning on a spire atop the palace. Connected to the biggest building lay the gardens and the menagerie. Braavos was a city made of stone, brick and iron; one could not find much or rather any green between the many houses. The luscious gardens of the Sealord however lay bright green at the atop the rest of the city. 

A large aqueduct, made out of gey stone and brick, called the sweetwater river flew through the eastern islands. It supplied the city with clean water, as the water of the lagoon was brackish and briny and undrinkable without boiling it first. Rich nobles and merchants would pipe it directly into their houses while cummoners have to fill buckets in public fountains. One such fountain was the moonpool near the Sealoard’s palace. Fresh water therefore was plenty to maintain the lush gardens and exotic animals. 

Strolling through the walled estate next to Melis, Vaenya saw Elephants, Tigers, Lions, small apes, and a bright colourful bird for the first time. Aerio Orlerris, the current Sealord was said to be able to tame any animal. He was a good looking man of valyrian descent close to fourty name days, his hair however was more of a dirty white colour while his eyes were more blue than purple. He might be able to train any animal, but no dragon.

The ball and feast were plentiful. Many nobles, rich merchards local and foreign alike were attending. Braavos was not that big and did not house big numbers of important people. After the wedding and many different shared feasts and suppers she knew the bigger part of the city’s important men and women. At least she did not have to introduce herself a dozen times each evening anymore. 

Vaenar and Melis left earlier. Some rather rowdy lords were blaring about the joys of a fresh marriage. The last thing she saw of him was her brother blushing deeply as they walked through the grant oak door. Poor Vaenar, between all these loud men he was not as calm and collected as always. 

Her mother insisted on staying longer, as she withdrew into a small council room to negotiate with another Keyholder and his wife. At the hour of the bat Vaenya had found herself playing cards with the Sealord. The colourful sheets of sturdy parchment were painted with seemingly important historical figures and travellers she did not know. To her own benefit, her opponent was already drunk. The Sealord was already a terrible player when sober, for he was as impatient with card games as with other things, but in his current condition it was an easy thing for her to rid him of a bag filled with coins. 

Eventually her mother did say her farewells after taking half an hour for it. It was a mild night, so they insisted on walking back home. Their house lay not far away from the Palace along the road to the west. 

Walking towards them came a group of three hooded men. They just passed the Moon Pool, where at night water dancers would duel, showing off the peculiar way of braavosi sword fighting. 

The men were going at a fast pace. Before they were able to think, one of the men pushed them into a narrow alleyway between two houses. 

The force let Vaenya stumble and she fell to the floor. Taeleste had brought a guard with them, a sellsword paid to protect them. The quick movements and element of surprise however left him stunned for a moment. Long enough for one of the men pushing his knife into their guards neck. She let out a scream as the blood splashed in a vivid red onto the facade. 

One of the attackers grabbed Vaenya behind her back, unable to leave his grab she withered still half on the floor. She did try to kick him but her legs only met empty air. With a big and dirty hand he muffled any scream. 

The other two were now approaching her mother. Taeleste stood tall, leaning on the house that was not covered in their guards blood. 

“Do you want money? I can give you plenty. Do you want a pardon? I know people. Please just let my daughter go and I shall forgive you for slaying my guard.” 

Her voice was strong and deep as always, but her eyes looked fearful towards her. 

She could now see the face of the taller man in a better light. He had a hooked nose and a scar along his mouth to his chin. The hood slightly moved up and she could notice brown dirty locks. 

How ordinary he looked Vaenya thought. There was nothing special about him. Still there he stood wielding so much power over them. 

“Do you know what I wish for?” He spoke in an ugly braavosi bastard valyrian. 

She caught a glance of the other stranger, who now grabbed her mother’s pale white and unclothed arm; refusing her from escaping him. 

He was older and had leathery skin. His face was covered over and over in little bumps as if he had greased it with porridge. He was a hideous creature through and through. 

Vaenya could only silently witness as she taller of the hooded figures pulled out his knife again. 

“For your life is what I wish.” 

Taeleste stretched her arm out in an attempt to strike the knife out of his hand. The blade hit her palm and for the second time she saw blood flowing through the night. 

Vaenya unsuccessfully tried to rid herself off the much stronger man holding her in a firm grip, she bit his hand to free her mouth. Drawing blood from his fingers she bit with more force. Taking a deep breath, she was screaming out of her lungs. 

Everything happened extremely fast. The leather-faced man grabbed her mother around the shoulders. Taeleste could not break out from the massive arms that held her firmly. The tall man who spoke before he was gripping her mothers chin and pulled her face close to his. She could not properly see or hear what was happening, but it seemed that he would whisper something in her ear. In a humiliating way he threw her head back, before he drew the knife once more. 

With fast and solid movement he pushes the blade into her mothers soft flesh repeatedly. 

Using her last breath Taeleste turned to her daugher in agony.

“Look away!” 

Vaenya cried out loud, which caused the man who was holding her to push her to the ground. laying his entire weight on top of her, she finally was able to look into his face. 

He looked weirdly feminine. She could not make out how old he possibly was, as he had the soft features of a child but also the wrinkles and moles of an old man. His eyes were bulging out of their socket, giving him a perverse look; hungry for his next prey. 

She closed her eyes as firmly as she could and turned away. There was no noise coming from the men who stood next to her mother. The man was shifting above her, his movements pressed her against the hard ground. She felt him ripping her dress, touching her legs with his sticky fingers. He laid himself between her now bare legs.

Wildly she pushed, and kicked, punched his ribcage, hit her fists at him. The other two came walking towards them. They spoke in a dialect she could not put anywhere at first. Both now held her arms and legs restraining her close to the pebbles beneath. She felt something cutting her skin, burning terribly. Above her she saw a glimpse of a knife. The blood and the blade brought back terrible memories from years ago. Yet there was no fire here, no smoke and no one to help her. 

With her mouth uncovered she started to scream once more. She screamed with all the air left in her lungs. She screamed until her throat hurt. She screamed until a window was opened high above her. 

The men stopped in their tracks. They looked at each other, before, at once they let go of her. After a heartbeat they vanished behind a corner. Vaenya could still make out some of their mumbling. They were speaking the Westerosi common tongue.

Boots were running hastingly over the cobblestones. Many voices were speaking at once. She did not dare to open her eyes yet. Her head was spinning and her entire body hurt as if it had been broken into two. Down her neck she felt a liquid running hot into the collar of her dress and on the ground. Somebody stood over her, slowly speaking to her. Her ears were ringing and she did not understand. She was drifting in and out of consciousness only sensing someone carefully picking her up. She did not open her eyes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more I tried connecting canon characters like the Rogares to our (for now) main character. Letting her go to Braavos was a conscious decision to show how bound to the Free Cities the family is and in contrast how foreign to Westeros. Also sorry to let her suffer, this was awful to write I must agree.
> 
> We will stay in Braavos for the next chapter, a few turns of the moon later.


	8. Braavosi Titans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of that faithful attack we stay in Braavos for now, but do not worry, among current affairs in the Free City we will get some more memories of the past years as well as some lore for world building.

Braavos 123 AC, three months later

All she felt was pain. She could not move her legs. Her arms were too heavy to raise them just slightly. Even her eyelids burned. A throbbing headache made it unable for her to think clearly. Bit by bit she opened her eyes, it took her a while to get used to the darkness in the room. It was her room. The light outside was vanishing, or not fully there yet. No candles have been lit, it was just the light blue dim from the sky.

She looked around, everything looked the same. On her table lay a pile of letters. She could not remember them. She could not remember why she was here, or how he got into bed, or what had happened the previous night. Her eyes met a figure sitting in the corner, as she flinched in fear it started to move. Terrified she tried to hide beneath the covers still she could not move. The figue grew bigger, turns out it was a person standing up from a stool. 

It was one of her good-sister’s maids. Why she was here she did not know. She came walking towards her bed. She tried to speak but her throat was dry and her lips would not move. 

“Thank the gods you are awake.” The maid, she forgot her name, handed her a cup with water. After she drank three full cups, her mouth finally felt close to normal again.

Though it was still painful to raise her head. The maid looked worryingly down to her. She still did not know why she was here, or what happened and why she felt this terrible. 

The maid was mumbling to her and left the room. Moments later footsteps were running down the corridor. 

Her brother stood in the doorframe. Getting down on his knees he approached his sister. His face was full with concern. With tender fingers he caressed her cheek. 

“How do you feel?” His voice was deeper and more hoarse than she had remembered it. 

Behind her brother she saw another figure walking inside the room. The man was tall and lean with silver hair. Her father. 

“What-” she stuttered “Why are you here? What is going on?” 

Vaenar took a sharp breath. 

“You have been sleeping. Close to three moons you lay in a comatose state.”

She was aghast. Her mind raced, thinking was hard with her ongoing headache. 

“There had been an… accident.” he hesitated, “You were injured and fell asleep.”

She could not remember anything. 

“What was it?” 

“Armed muggers did encounter you at knifepoint after we visited the Sealord.” 

She did remember the Sealords Palace, yet nothing besides. 

“Where is mother? And why are you here?” 

She looked at her father, something was wrong. 

“Do you remember anything from that night?” Vaenar continued. 

“No” there was nothing. 

“Where is sh-”

“She is dead.” her father interrupted her question. 

“Mother is not dead. She is well. She was with me. Can you please send her in.”

Her head hurts and she began to feel nauseous. 

_They must have had a cup of wine too much to talk of such falsities._

Before she could start to wonder why her father was even here, she saw the look on Vaenar’s face. He had become thin. His face was an unhealthy pale grey colour and he wore dark shadows below his worried eyes. 

_What was happening?_

“Mother is no longer with us, Vaenya. After the attack she unfortunately succumbed to her injuries.”

She did not remember an attack. All she knew where the cuts on her skin and her aching bones. 

Her stomach was turning and she started to feel a sickness coming over her. If she had anything inside her guts she would have vomited onto the floor. 

So she only produced a throaty sound. 

“Get the healer.” 

Her brother commanded and their father left the room. 

Her mind was clouded. Slowly the realization set in. Her mother was dead. She would not come and sit next to her bed. 

Vaenar was still kneeling on the floor as an old woman entered the room. Softly she put a hand on his shoulder. Knowing this signal he quickly moved forward and gave his sister a kiss on the forehead before he got up and left the room as well. 

The woman must have passed more than sixty name days. She had dark hair with grey streaks and a kind wrinkled face. She wore a long dark red cloak above a grey surcoat. As a belt she tried a twisted rope with tassels at the endes. Around her neck she wore a chain, hanging from it was a snake slithering around an iron rod. According to her appearance, she must be a Healer from the house of the Red Hands. The Red Hand’s place was a hospice and center of healing in the middle of the city. 

She was compassionate and spoke calmly. With easy words she explained Vaenya the injuries she had suffered during the attack. Most of them were already healed such as bruises and minor cuts of the skin. On her shoulders, arms, back and thighs she however had bigger wounds that went deep into the flesh. The healer did put a paste on the wounds and bandaged them, she said that they are healing well but she would have to stay in bed in order to avoid them ripping open again. 

The woman asked how she was currently feeling. Stating her headache and pain in most parts of her body, the woman nodded slightly. With juvenile quickness she got up and went to catch something from outside her chambers. As she came back, she gave Vaeny a cup with a thick slimy liquid inside. 

“Drink” she told her. 

It was disgusting, a mere addition of mint did nothing to hinder the overpowering taste of bitter herbs. 

Soon she would feel better, the healer assured her. She still needed to rest to fully heal with time. 

The next time she woke up it was bright outside, at least as bright as possible for Braavos. She did not know how much time had passed, if it was the same evening, a day later, a week or even a moon or longer. This time her room was empty except for herself. 

Starting to wiggle her toes she tried to move her legs. They did not feel as tired and broken as the last time she woke. Now slowly moving her arms she started to raise her upper body. Her headache was less intense, yet did not disappear completely. 

Making it to sit upright she turned her legs to face the long edge of her bed. For a moment she hesitated and looked through her room. Still the only thing she found strange were the many letters laying unopened on the table. The air was cold and as usual for Braavos, thick with fog. 

Supporting her weight with her arms she pushed off the mattress. The muscles in her legs were still weak, leaving her to stumble in small steps across the room. Reaching the table she leaned onto the hardwood, glad for the support she took a breath in. 

Her eyes shifted over the many different parchments, they were distinctive in colour and texture. Some she recognized. Others looked foreign to her. The letters were sealed in familiar wax and others just tied with a simple cord. With her fingers she slid over the hardened wax. This one was red as blood with the sigil of the three headed dragon pressed into. She had opened many letters of that kind before, but for now she did not want to read one of the three letters of the same kind that lay there. Another one caught her eyes, it was sealed with pure white wax, vaguely she could make out a coin in the middle. It cannot be a braavosi or pentoshi coin, as she did not know its kind. There also lay a folded parchment which was wrapped with a beautiful cobalt blue cord. 

Abruptly it hit her. Why the letters were there. Why she was there. 

Her mother is dead. Her brother told her. She died in an attack. She suffered injuries that ended her life. She counted five and thirty name days. She was no more. 

Her legs failed her. She slid onto the ground. Her throat was dry, her arms heavy. With shaking hands she tried to pull herself up the table but all her powers had left her. So she kept sitting on the ground, crying desperately.

She cried until there were no tears left, until no sound left her mouth anymore. Slowly rocking herself back and forward she whimpered to herself. 

Every now and then she would see a single picture in front of her eyes. A single moment from the night it happened. It was too quick, too dark for her to make out a significant detail. She did not want to close her eyes, scared that she would see more of the tragic accident. Yet her eyes were so tired. So she forced herself to stare at the door that lay opposite her. At least the bright light from the window did not blend her eyes. 

Outside that door footsteps came to a halt. Promptly another set of feet stopped in front of her door. 

“You cannot keep her here. Who will look after her? Do you not have enough on your hands already?” 

“She will recover best at home. Currently this is her home and my sister will stay with me.” 

“This is no place to heal from such wounds. Vaenar have you seen the cuts on her back? The air here is damp and the streets covered in fog. I can take her with me.”

“To your dragon island? Is this not just as damp and cold? As well as windy and harsh? I will not let you take my sister with you. She would only suffer more from the only constant losses in her life.” 

“I could take her to King’s Landing. The weather there is kind. She would be surrounded with familiar faces. The Maesters in the Capital know what they are doing.” 

“I told you this many times! I will not send her on a ship and bring her out of my sight. If I wanted her to be at a warmer place she would be in Pentos now. She will stay here and that is my last word.” 

“She might be too weak and fragile now to be sent on a ship, but I beg you to think it over Vaenar. I also only want the best for my daughter. Maybe this is not here.”

Her brother was panting on the corridor. With heavy steps he walked back downstairs.

* * *

Getting out of bed was hard, walking was hard, going up and down the stairs was hard. Yet she had to learn all of this in small simple steps, not figuratively speaking. 

Her healer had brought a younger woman with her, perhaps to train her. But the maid, as she had seen her, could help her better with supporting her arm around her shoulders and letting her grab her side when she walked. 

Her muscles have become weak over the time she had spent in bed. The cuts tightened her skin and made it painful to move. Often she would request milk of the poppy to ease her pain, but meanwhile the old healer refused her. Instead she got another disgustingly tasting herbal tinktur. 

Her father had left days after she had woken up. He wanted to assure her well-being. After the healers told him repeatedly that Vaenya would recover in time he said his farewell and left on Caraxes. She did not forget the confrontation her father had with her brother. 

Daemon wanted to take his eldest daughter to live with him on Dragonstone, he would even take her to the capital if the island would not aid in her healing process. But Vaenar had insisted that his sister would stay with him. 

Now it was just her and her brother. They were all that was left. Barely a man of ten and seven and his wounded sister of ten and three. That was all that was left of their once family. Surely Vaenar has his wife and they would soon see children from this union, yet she felt so alone. 

The loss had taken a toll on her brother as well. With the death of their mother he immediately became the master of the Belaerys family. He ruled over all the trade ties and agreements in Lys and Pentos, while simultaneously holding responsibilities in the Iron Bank of Braavos. He grew thinner and more worried. He refused to accept Melis’ tries of an embrace and kept to himself. 

Vaenya in the meantime drowned in her own sorrow. She did think of her mother every day. Every night she would think of her. The most important person in her life suddenly vanished and she had to come to terms with it. 

She hated herself for the way she had behaved the same day they visited the Sealord. She was acting like a moody, spoiled child. Now that was what she had off it she thought. Her mother had taught her a lesson. Vaenya could not accept that things would not go her intended way. That was the price she now had to pay for it. 

It had been moons since the incident. In the meantime everyone they had once known had sent them a letter or two, saying how deeply they feel for this tragic loss. As if they could understand how she felt now. Her brother had told her of letters from Lys to Pentos, from Asshai and Oldtown, from King’s Landing and Dragonstone. They all said the same. Maybe the thought of so many different people caring about her mother would make it better in time. But the mourning would last. 

Her own letters, she still did not open. They would all say the exact same words. None of them could bring her mother back. She was once so close, she cracked a seal of red wax. But not even the words written by her favourite cousin would make her feel any better and she was not in the mood of reading his fine high valyrian handwriting. 

Many hours she had spent sitting at the table and looking out of the window. Intently she studied every house that lay in her reach. Every canal, bridge and alleyway. Watched the people going on about their daily lives. Followed merchards selling their goods. Looked into the windows of the houses nearest to her. She had known Braavos before, but only now she thought that she does really see it. Her eyes scanned the big houses and temples that lay in on the Isle of the Gods within the long canal in the middle of the city. Never had she been there before. 

The days were dragging on. Vaenar was almost never in the house. Melis on the other hand never left. While she let Vaenya in peace most of the time, she did also refuse to go out and thus leaving her good-sister alone. This only resulted in her being frustrated and bored. 

One day after she got into an argument with Melis she was so angry she just had to leave. Throwing a warm cloak around her shoulders she stomped out of the door. Either she was too furious to slow down or too quick for the pain to set in, she realized that she was almost running through the streets. Her legs carried her effortlessly. Only as she stopped they began to feel heavy again. Now with slower and steady steps she made her way through the many houses. She did not care that she was alone. Who would go with her? Did she even know a purpose for this outburst? In truth she had to leave her room, even if it was just for a few hours. The change of surroundings, the movement - it had made her feel lighter and clearer. 

Crossing canal after canal she had found herself close to the many places of worship in the different temples. There was a temple of R’hollor, a Sept, a shrine for the Weeping Woman of Lys, temples for the starry wisdom, the Moonsingers and the Father of Water. The most intriguing had to be the House of Black and White however. It was not as big as the Moonsinger’s temple or as bright as the Temple of the Lord of Light, but the House of Black and White had a place for every god. It stood tall on a rocky knoll made out of dark grey stone, without any window along its tall walls. In the front stood a grand double door. The left door is weirwood, the right ebony. In the center of the doors is a carved moon face ebony on weirwood, weirwood on ebony. Its grey stone steps lead down to the dock.There are no services or songs of worship within the temple. The visitor can visit the pool, the gods, or ask for a priest. 

Walking in, she thought that of all the many gods worshipped inside here, maybe one could lessen her pain. 

In the great hall lies a pool ten feet across. Statues of gods stand around the room, among them are the Weeping Woman, the Lion of Night, Hooded Wayfarer, Bakkalon, the Moon-Pale Maiden, the Stranger and the Merling King. The hall was dark and gloomy, the only source of light a window in the ceiling. 

Vaenya knew why people would seek this place. The priests would welcome any visitor that wished to grant the temple their most valuable asset, their life. She was alone as she sat on the edge of the pool, lightly dipping her fingers into the cold water. 

“Valar Morghulis” a man greeted her. 

“Valar Dohaeris” she answered at once. 

“What is the matter of your visit my girl?” Now standing in better light, she could see the person talking to her. He was of middle age with kind eyes and a thin smile.

“I want to receive the gift” 

“Are you sick, girl?” His voice was stern in his braavosi valyrian accent. 

“No, I mean... I am injured. But I came here to seek your services.” 

“As far as I can tell, you survived a great mishap. Why would you come to give that precious young life of yours away.” 

She had to think for a while, her decision to come here had been spontaneous but this would not make it any less valid. Her life was miserable, everyday was turture. If her body was not aching then her heart was. 

“I can see that you are in conflict with yourself.” The man said, still sternly.

“But I am sure, I want to give my life to your god.”

“The Many Faced God has a lot of worshippers already, he can spare one soul.” 

“I can pay, I have plenty of gold. I know who you are, what you are capable of and I can give you any price you will tell me.”

“What is your name girl?” He was calm and not impressed by her agitated state. 

“I… I am Vaenya. Vaenya Belaerys.” A bit startled she looked at him. 

“Good, Vaenya Belaerys, now that I know your name I cannot grant you the gift.”

“No! But… no! I assign you with this task! I demand to be served.”

“You are too young. You should call yourself thankful that the Many Faced God has not called you already.” 

She was outraged. How dare he refuse to serve her. Did they not take any life with welcoming arms? At once she had another idea, as miserable as her life was she did not care what to do with it anyway. 

“Leave Vaenya Belaerys. You have already received a gift and this is why you are still alive.”

“If the Many Faced God is so fond of me, will he take me in service then?”

The man looked down on her, still with his serious gaze, the kindness has left his eyes. 

“I know fully well what you are and what you are capable of, let me join you. I have nothing to lose. I would be a great addition to your order.” 

“This is not for you to judge. You are not ready to become one of ours. Come back when you have truly nothing left to lose and I shall reconsider.”

He turned at once and walked back into the shadows he came from. Vaenya had nothing to do other than to leave this place. 

The walk back to their manse was longer and more painful than she had wished for. She damned the priest for denying her, she damned her healer for not giving her any milk of the poppy, she damned those men for attacking her, she damned her mother for dying. 

She is dead now, but she left them alone. Vaenar was clearly overwhelmed with all the work, a wife he did not know and a damaged sister. Vaenya was left alone in her misery and had to suffer everyday with her aching body and devastated mind. Their father meanwhile tried to grab anything from them that he could. Their once glorious family was getting smaller with the years. From the once ruling dragonlords they were cut down to only her and her brother and both are unable to do their famous name any justice. Taeleste had tried, she had made a name for herself, she provided a future for their children, ensuring the future of their house in turn. Now she was gone and left a big rip in their hearts. 

Vaenya hated herself for being angry at her dead mother. She had done her best to care for her children as long as they were alive. It was on them now to make anything out of it. Her own mother suffered terrible things, survived wars, pirates, attaks, and long journeys. As a young woman, not much older than herself, an accident inside the Starry Sept in Asshai claimed the lives of her grandfather as well as her aunt and uncle. The last dragon of the Belaerys’ was killed in the riots that followed the explosion. In turn her father had taken his wife and their two young children on a voyage outside the shadow city. Just before they had reached their destination of the Island of Leng their own ship was attacked by pirates, murdering Taeleste’s mother and younger brother. Both herself and her father were able to return to Asshai alive but injured. 

Much like Vaenya not too long ago, Taeleste lay months in agony, recovering from her near wounds. Inside a red temple, priestesses cared for her until she eventually took back her previous health. However, as she was able to leave her place of healing her father was gone. He was nowhere to be found, neither inside their own home or in the house of his parents. The only other surviving member of the family had been Taeleste’s grandmother, Visenya, allegedly named for her own grandmother, she then told her grandchild how her father was sent away from the red temple. They instructed him with acquiring a certain herb found upwards the saffron straits, he left on his ship, never to be seen again. Her grandmother then sent her away, an envoy of priests and priestesses from the red temple of R’hollor left for the free cities and Taeleste was to join them on their voyage. 

As a child Taeleste had once bought freedom a slave girl on an auction in the city. From that day on she lived with them in their house, not as a maid but rather an accomplice. Later that girl joined the Red Temple of R’hollor, she was one of the priestesses to accompany Taeleste to the free cities where she would live with the Rogare family. 

Vaenya’s mother then spent many years on the southern Island, rebuilding the family’s trade unions and overlooking any contracts. She carried the Belaerys’ out of disaster and assured that her name kept being known for their influence and reliability. 

Vaenar and Vaenya were in no different position now, they were even in a better one than their mother. Taeleste made sure that her children grew up into a well established house and had written her own will long ago. Both had a security net of gold and trustworthy friends and allegiances. 

Vaenya should not drown herself in her own misery she realized. What would her mother think of her as of now? Begging the faceless assassins to poison her. She was ashamed for being spoiled and arrogant as she was, demanding things she could call herself lucky not having to endure. 

Her mother had told her the entire tale once before, she did not like to talk much about her life in Asshai, yet she would never forget her roots. She may be from an ancient valyrian family but they were so closely tied to Asshai that their tongue would be the first one they learn, Vaenar and Vaenya therefore also learned Asshai’i before they were taught High Valyrian or its many dialects. Together with her brother she would still speak the language whenever they wished for nobody else to understand them, the ancient tongue was not spoken often, especially not that war in the west so they were quite sure about it. 

Back at home she briefly apologized to Melis, it had not been her intention to confront her like that. Her good-sister in turn was mainly happy that Vaenya went out on her own for the first time, although she had been terribly worried about her whereabouts. Both hugged tightly and sincerely for what seemed the first time. 

Upstairs in her room she opened the window and let some air and light in, sitting herself on the desk she decided to finally read all the letters she had carefully avoided for all that time. 

First she opened a scroll with a blue ribbon, it was from Trego sent from Pentos. It was filled with the usual saying in answer to the death of a loved one, lots of wishing wells and statements of shared misery. It did little to take the weight off her heart yet his compassion gratified her, after all he once took Taeleste in together with her young babes. He saw her as his own daughter and loved her a lot. The magister did attend her mothers funeral, as well as many others, her own father came to Braavos and let Caraxes lit the funeral pyre. Vaenya did not know this as she had not woken from her state yet. 

She then broke a silvery-white wax seal of another letter. The coin pressed into, she recognised as lysenese, and indeed, inside the folded parchment she read the reassuring words of her cousin Orla. The Rogare’s did not attend the funeral as the voyage had been too long. However they did send an envoy from the closeby Lorath. Orla did write the same words of mourning and sadness, but also included some of the usual japs as she always did. The first time in moons it did make her laugh truly and Vaenya realized that she missed not only her mother but her friends as well. 

There were other letters with wax colours and sigils she did not recognize yet and put off reading them for now. 

The last letters she wanted to read today were the meanwhile five carefully folded pachments sealed with a dark red wax that carried the three headed dragon of the Targaryens. She knew those were from her cousin Aemond, after all she had an entire drawer full of all the letters he had sent them ever since they were ten years of age. Breaking them open all at once she laid them out in order on her desk. The first one spoke of great tragedy and compassion, the second one excused him for not visiting her for the funeral, the third one worried about her state of health, the fourth one wished her well now that she is luckily awake and the fifth one told of lighter topics such as the daily life in court. He must be aware that she could not read all that he had written to her and later was in no state to write back to him, he did not expect an answer from her and had just written as he always did. And she was so very glad of it. His lyric valyrian together with his constant mocking of whoever had annoyed him that day improved her mood immediately. 

In his last letter he told her that he missed her and often thinks back about their shared moments in Pentos. In earlier letters he did never address this, yet in this one he has written about how much he slept better with her by his side and even that he misses her lips on his. The latter part made her face burn. She briefly remembered her confession to her mother months ago, Vaenya had been dubious about her own feelings for her prince cousin for a while now. But in truth she knew it deep within her that he was the only she would ever be able to love. Those were not the foolish feelings of a young maiden, Vaenya knew that there was a strong bond between the two of them. They could understand the other without any words, almost as if they could read the others mind. It was a curious thing and she cherished it immensely. Needless to say their current separation hurt a lot. Not as much as her mothers death by far, but Aemond had grown to become her closest companion in the last years, and them being apart from each other as well as her mothers loss let her suffer terribly. 

Putting all of Aemond’s letters in the drawer to the others she looked through the lot of them. It must have been a couple of dozens as of now. After their first encounter they had written to each other almost every week or fortnight. Reporting of the most ordinary happens just to read it written by the other. Later the letters had gotten sparse but longer and more personal, they wrote about longings and hopes and worries for the future, asked for advice and suggested the best outcome. Reading briefly over them she realized how the ending of the letters had changed with time. First he wrote formally and only signed as with his royal title and name, later then it had changed to _your cousin, your favourite cousin, your friend_ , and the last letter was signed with: 

... _from your dearest friend, favourite cousin and always devoted…_

Those were so banal yet she ravished all of it. His greetings however had stayed the same, it had always been _My beloved Vaenya_ … in all the years he wrote to her. 

The next day she woke up in much less pain than the previous months. A big part of her worrying state has left her and she feels much lighter now. But deep inside lay a dark and vicious creature, slimy and disgusting and waiting to be let out. Vaenya wanted revenge and would do anything to get her vengeance from those who had done this to her. 

Throwing something over she was on her way back to the House of black and white. Down stairs she encountered her brother who looked surprised at her. He was glad to see her this agile and happy yet he asked her where she would think to go on her own. She answered him how she had seen a beautiful dress maker on her walk yesterday but had not enough money on her and she thus wanted to return to that place. Vaenar did not doubt his sister and delighted in seeing her doing well again, he too did not have a smile on his face for a long time. Suddenly she had the urge to hug him tightly, as they broke their embrace he smiled happily at her. However he still did not send her off without handing her a dagger and giving her a lesson on how to use it most efficiently. She did also dress in a modest way with a big grey cloak covering most of her body, not letting her look like a noble lady of the city and she was gladly relieved for the invisibility it would grant her. 

Her destination today was sure and she did take the most direct way. As she stood in front of the weirwood and ebony door she walked through it with determination. This time she did not sit down at the pool melancholy but instead waited patiently for whichever priest would receive her today. In awe she saw the same man as yesterday walking towards her. 

“Valar Morghulis” she greeted him directly. 

“Valar Dohaeris. When I told you that you are not ready I did not mean for you to stay in front of me the following day.” His voice stern and harsh. 

“I am not here for that. I know what you are and what you are capable of and thus want to employ you. Moons ago I was victim of an ambush that left my momer dead and marked me with those-” she pulled her cloak away to show the man a scar on her shoulder, “all over. I want you to kill the men who did it. Take this as a deposit until you tell me the full price for the murder of the three of them.” she handed him a pouch filled with gold coins. 

The man was nodding in acceptance. 

“May I know the names of those men? I shall then tell you the full sum of gold we demand.”

“I do not know their names! I do not even fully know who they were or exactly how they look. I thought you knew of such things?” 

“Oh no, our expertise lies on other grounds, we merely do as we are told. But to hire us we need to know who it is we will sacrifice to the god of many faces. Come back when you know the names of those you wish to employ our services to.” 

He did not wait for an answer from her before he turned and gave him attention to another priest currently working in the great hall. 

Once again she left this house without her wishes being granted, yet today she had a mission on her own. All she wanted was to avenge her mother and her own wounds and give those men what they deserve. And it was the most important thing that she did it on her own, that she was aware of what she was capable of. All she had to know was finding out their names, it looks like an impossible task but Vaenya was so determined as it was the only thing on her mind right now. 

* * *

Back inside their gardens she repeated some of the movements with the dagger, Vaenar had taught her. It was terrible how this was truly her first time with a deadly blade in her hands. In Pentos she did learn how to shoot as bow and arrow, as well as she was taught to ride in the dothraki way as her teacher had once been part of a khalasaar. But that had been it for her physical education. Vaenar learned to fight with sword and other weapons and she thought that now it was time for her to learn how to defend herself properly. 

During supper she addressed her wish to her brother and his wife. They did look a bit startled but after all Vaenar agreed to it. After all it was his own idea for her to carry a blade with her everytime she left the house. He knew too well that he could not lock her inside the manse, as this would only make her want to break out more. Therefore he assured her that he would be looking for a suitable teacher to instruct her in self defense as well as in fighting with blades. Even if he did not like the idea of his younger sister of three and ten to handle a sword he had to accept that her current excitement was much of an improvement to her sulking inside her room for weeks at a time. 

Vaenya had also planned on getting closer to Melis, her good-sister told her how she had always wanted a sister for herself, now it was on Vaenya to try and fulfill this role. Never did she really think about it, but Melis was also alone in this city. She arrived here to be married to a boy who was a relative stranger to her, leaving her own family behind, sure she did bring some of her maidens with her but after all those were but servants in her eyes. 

One day while Vaenar was busy inside the Iron Bank, Vaenya knocked on Melis’ door. Her good-sister had turned the chambers she shared with her husband in a hell filled with every colour known to tyrosh and the human eye. It was all so vivid that all the many colours fit together well, it was still a very expensive looking place after all. Melis was delighted about her initiative, but looked down on her with an asking look, at eight and ten she was still a bit taller than Vaenya, although the younger girl was convinced that this would not last for very long. 

“I do not wish do distrub you for long but I have a question. Could you do me a favour?” 

“Gladly, but I do not know if I could grant you whatever you want from me.” Melis was not convinced yet, maybe she expected her good-sister to also ask her for training in amrs or other strange things of that sort. 

“Remember when you offered me to dye my hair? You said that you brought some with you from Tyrosh?”

At once Melis’ face lightened up.

“Of course! Of course!” she opened a chest near her vanity and looked for many different ornate glass bottles, “What colour do you wish for? Light pink? Lilac? Or something more vibrant? I have a nice blue here.”

“Brown.” 

“Brown? Just some muddy brown?” Melis has raised one eyebrow, currently she wore her hair a light blue colour, her eyebrow was the same colour. Previously she had worn it in sage green, bright yellow, vivid pink and once even dark purple. The choice of brown almost offended her. 

“Yes just brown. I always feel the gaze of people on me, partly because of my hair. The other day some man even asked me if I was a courtesan, can you believe that? Some ordinary hair colour would make me a bit invisible I assume.” 

Melis’ face softened in understanding. She knew too well of Vaenya’s struggles and her need to be free after those suffocating months bound to bed. In truth the decision of changing her hair had come to her on her last way back from the House of Black and White. She had hidden her hair beneath a hood, yet some of it had always come through and even if the pale hair of the valyrians was not that scarce in the port city, Vaenya still preferred to blend in with the masses. After all her pure silver hair had been a rarity even for those with valyrian origin. 

Losing her uncommon colouring did not fill her with dread as it once did, she had much different things to worry about. Now it had become necessary for her to hide that part of her. Melis’ dye would eventually wash out with time, that was how she was able to change her own hair that often. 

“I do not think I have brown, maybe a burnt orange? Or we could also mix some.”

“You know how, don’t you?” 

“Of course, tell the servants to prepare everything in the kitchens. I will be there in a short while.”

An hour later, with lots of spilled dye caused by giggling girls, Vaenya stood in front of the mirror. Her hair was still wet from rinsing out the colour, making it look a deep black. It was almost as if her mother looked back at her from the mirror. Melis put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and told her how beautiful she looks, how much she resembles Taeleste. 

Vaenya then asked for scissors, with her good-sister still looking sceptical on her, she cut her long former silver strands to reach no further than her shoulder. She could not stand seeing her mother everytime she would look into the mirror, she had to be a new version of herself and not a duplicate of her dead mother. 

Her change in appearance also had another reasoning, after all she was still a little bitter about getting turned down by the priests in the black and white temple twice. She knew how the priests or rather, assassin's working here are able to change the way they look, and can wear dead people's faces. _If I can’t become one of them and change my face then I will change in one way or another._

Her brother was stunned by her different appearance, yet he did not say much. He knew that everyone used other ways to cope. On good news however, Vaenar had found a former sellsword to teach her who would start their training in the next couple of days. 

While she was waiting for her lessons to beginn, she was often strolling through the streets of the city. She focused on all the small alleyways and hidden passages, taking it all in. After not long she was more than familiar with all of the public places and some gardens and official buildings as well. 

Wearing her new short and muddy brown hair proudly she felt hidden behind some façade. Almost as if she was wearing another face. This also enabled her to visit many taverns, mummers' plays and other places a maiden of noble birth should not go to. On all her visits there she tried to take a close look on the faces of the folk there and who was a regular guest. She had her duty in front of her eyes and would do everything she could to find the men who are the reason for her misery. 

Her brother had been busy and she saw him less and less, only good for her to spend her days exploring the city. On one lonely evening she had found a letter on her desk. It had been sealed with burgundy wax with the three headed dragon pressed into. Yet it was not like the ones Aemond had sent her, the wax was different. She started to wonder even more she broke the first seal and found a second sealed parchment beneath. This time it was a crown pressed into golden wax, it was from the king personally. Not even after the death of her mother did they receive such a letter. They only got an affirmation from the court written by the Hand Ser Otto. And indeed, the parchment she held in her hands had been signed by King Viserys himself. 

She did read the letter twice and a third time to assure that she truly understood what he meant. Still she did not fully believe what the words were telling her. Her uncle, who also happened to sit on the throne of the seven Kingdoms, informed her how her own father had requested that his two eldest children would get legitimized by the King. Viserys had written personally to her, not letting his Hand or the Grandmaester do it for him. But foremost, he wanted her approval. Getting legitimized would still leave her as a bastard and in the seven Kingdoms she would not lose her stigma of being born from lust and weakness. On the other hand it would give her own father a certain power over her, with her mother dead and her brother being merely a boy of age, Daemon could get a hold of their wealth and decide over her future. 

Legitimizing her would not make her a princess, it could possibly grant her other benefits at court. But would that be of any worth? Perhaps she could go to King’s Landing and live there as a lower lady or even handmaiden. This did not sound too terrible, especially in regard that she could not wait to see her favourite cousins again, yet this is not of any worth of her. It would be a disgrace and shame for her family, if she was treated like a lowborn lady. Even legitimized she would still be a bastard, allowed to stay among the royal family but unable to officially join them. 

The hatred towards bastards in the seven Kingdoms had always insulted her, in the free cities people cared little about such things, the Faith of the Seven did not matter here and most religions had different views and marriage and the birth of children. Both her and her brother came out of their mothers womb and that was all that mattered. Little did she care what the common people and the high lords of that Kingdom would think of her. They had no love left for some bastards born from a prince and the matriarch of a rich and powerful foreign family, yet sooner or later they would get a bastard as their own King. If the princess of Dragonstone would eventually leave her rock and show her brown haired and pug faced boys to the common folk they would realize that the next Sovereign did commit high treason and that her eldest sons are nothing but base born. So far none of the Lords or Septons dared to say anything on that matter, but eventually this could lead to war. Her own mother told her about it. The royal family over in Westeros did live in a peculiar situation. And for now she was glad not to be part of it, far away in her lagoon city without any dragons or wyverns. 

For the first time in many moons, Vaenya took out parchment and her writing utensils, over a small flame she melted the silvery wax she sealed all her letters with. With the utmost respect she responded to King Viserys that she gladly refused his offer and preferred to live as a natural born daughter of a prince, away from court in the free cities. On the soft wax she pressed her family's sigil of the dragon inside a coin. Since she had all her writing equipment out for once she opened the drawer with the many letters Aemond had sent her and read the last ones another time. The year of 123 after conquest was coming to an end and in a fortnight both would share their four and tenth name day, Vaenya thought it was fitting to write to him on this special day. 

As the ink dried she softly held the parchment to her chest, thinking about how he would soon hold it in his very hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not intent on copying Arya's Braavos storyline but those had always been my favourite chapters and I just got lost with the idea of Vaenya staying in Braavos, coming to her own senses before she decides to be ready to go to Westeros again. As of now she has a love/hate relationship with the city and still keeps some unfinished business there. 
> 
> This also gives me the chance to go more into her more savage and vindictive side. She is after all the Rogue Prince's daughter. This time is essential for her own character development.


	9. Saera Was Never An Agreeable Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After some major chances, Vaenya is focused on only one thing and she was ready to give it all to fulfill her vengeance. 
> 
> Caution: this chapter will get steamy eventually, the warnings and rating have been updated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I got the chapter title from [Dragon Age: Inquisition](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hd8wiKY68oc) what do you mean??

Braavos 124 AC

Vaenya spent her four and tenth Name Day not different from the days that came before and after. She broke her fast together with her brother and his wife, she attended her lessons, first with her maester and later with her sword master, later she would join the rest of her small family for another shared meal. Everyday had been more or less the same, she learned, she explored the city, she watched, she reflected on notable changes in her surroundings. 

The former sellsword her brother had sent to train her did just that. At first he wanted to see what she was doing with a dagger if she wanted to defend herself, then he guided her to more efficient ways. Lately he also educated her with sword. This was her favourite part, just wielding a sword in her hands made her feel so much more powerful. Since a real blade had been relatively heavy for her, her new master gave her a wooden sword at first. She felt like a laughable little princeling whose mother was afraid that her poor babe is injuring themselves. Vaenya then walked up to her brother's solar and took his valyrian steel sword, it was lighter than common steel and much sharper. Her master had been speechless at first but realized how determined his new student truly was. 

He did teach her different ways of fighting, from braavosi water dancing, to the typical style nobles learn in westeros but also the quick and effective ways of the Dothraki. Vaenya showed him how sure she was with bow and arrow, after all she learned to shoot sitting on a galloping horse and he was quite impressed. Furthermore she requested him other ways of defense, none that involved long and heavy swords, rather one on one fighting from short distance. To her own luck he did just as he was told, shortly she felt herself becoming faster and stronger, she felt more safe and self-assured. If she would have been attacked in another ambush during one of her tours through the city she could defend herself perfectly fine. 

On her Name Day her brother therefore gifted her a Valyrian steel dagger. It was black of blade and hilt, it’s same dark pommel was decorated with black and white pearls and fitting the sheath perfectly. Proudly she strapped the new weapon on her belt. For a while now she preferred to wear more practical leather breeches and shirts to any fancy dresses. 

Her current clothing reminded her of her riding leathers Aemond had gifted her to her one and tenth name day. Just that it was of much cheaper and much browner cattle skin. Long had she grown out of it, she was now tall and lean, almost the same height as Melis, but the training had given her slight muscles in arm and thighs. As she had once been willowy with legs like twigs she was now stronger, in her own eyes she was the strong and lean warrior not different to her father; although she of course had never fought in a war. Vaenya did fight her very own war instead. 

While Vaenar had gifted her an ornate dagger, Melis gave her a smaller weapon. A short dirk with a narrow blade, yet with a hilt that gave its wielder good grip. She told her to strap it to her thigh if she wore a dress, or inside the pockets of her breeches. A dagger proudly worn on one's belt only did so much, sometimes a small but unexpected weapon did much more damage. Armed with both dagger and dirk, Vaenya walked the streets and bridges surely. 

From King’s Landing she received a parchment from her cousin. Eating an apple while sitting on a doorstep near Nabbo’s Bridge close to Ragman’s Harbour she broke the wax seal. For a short moment she thought what Aemond would think of her right now, the messy muddy haired bastard among common people, dressed like a squire. He would clearly not recognize her and frown upon her. No matter how much she allowed herself to love her princeling cousin, she was more than aware of his arrogant and vain self and found it laughable at best. 

In his letter he reported his life in the Red Keep as usual, furthermore he told her how much he misses her and often wished himself back into her bed in Pentos. His blunt way of telling this made her cheeks feel hot. She had been older now, yet them spending almost every night pressed against each other as two and then year olds made her feel a little strange. But she would be lying to herself now if she was not longing for his touch. 

In her task of finding out the names of her attackers she did not fully succeed yet, although Vaenya was sure to have seen one of them walking into a brothel the other day. Today she planned to visit said place again, as well as the neighbouring taverns and inns. Vaenya had been in this part of the city often before. The vicinity to the harbour brought the most interesting clientele into these streets and canals. Earlier she decided to walk through this place slowly throughout the entire day, sooner or later she would find her target, no matter how. 

During her time on the streets of Braavos Vaenya took on a new personality, a new name. The person who was out here in constant revenge and bloodlust was not the noble lady and daughter of a dagon prince but someone entirely new. If anyone wanted to know her name or asked for her she told them her name was Saera, the girl with the short muddy hair and stained leather clothes was Saera. She did take this from the faceless assassins as well, while they were in the Sealords palace she eavesdropped on some other nobles how the faceless men took new names along with faces and clothes to hide their true identity. 

So she did just like that, decades ago her new namesake Saera Targaryen, daughter of King Jaehaerys, misbehaved so intensely that she was sent to the Silent Sisters in Oldtown before she fled to Lys to join a pleasure garden, and later Volantis to become the proprietor of a famous brothel. From then on she refused to return to the seven Kingdoms. 

At six and ten, Princess Saera had been found in a brothel with two of her favourites and three lordlings, all of them kissing without clothing and perhaps much more than that. Later in front of the King, she claimed that she told all three of the lordligns that they took her maidenhead and she then declared that she would marry all three of them, comparing herself to Aegon or Maegor the cruel. 

Vaenya thought of the story as uttermost amusing. In Pentos, Aemond had told it to her while they were laying in bed one night. Her own cousin was just sniggering at the princesses wanton ways. She had to suppress to tell him how they were currently laying in secret on her bed as well, tangled with each other, mouth on mouth and enjoying it fully. So she told him to keep quiet or the King would send him to Oldtown as well. This only ended in him kissing her all over her face while she had to hold her stomach from all the laughing. 

She allowed herself a moment to indulge in that memory, feeling her burning red cheeks. How far away was she from that version of herself. The silver haired girl spending every waking and sleeping hour with her dragon prince. Even her dainty silver necklace with the pearl hanging from it she took off. Before she had thought about writing to Aemond about her scheme, no doubt he would sooner or later land Vhagar on the big town square, ready to burn every man that they would even suspect at being involved in the attack. Too bad this would only cause more drama and would perhaps really get him sent off to the Faith or the Citadel.

Alone, she now leaned to a stone wall. Across the canal lay the Satin Palace, the brothel she had kept her eyes on for now. Previously she visited the House of Seven Lamps, a tavern north of said brothel. During her visit there she was not successful however. So she spent the days watching either the Satain Palace or the Happy Port which lay closer to the harbour. 

Hours passed until she saw a familiar face, both feminine and masculine with bulging eyes and of an age she could not tell. As he made his way inside she followed him. 

Vaenya had been in brothels before, only briefly of course, yet never has she stepped into this one before. The air inside was sticky and smelled strongly of incense. From the various rooms one could hear lots of laughing, singing, wailing as well as other sounds of pleasure paired with the loud talking of male voices and furniture being moved on the ground. Many a beautiful woman was walking through the main room, it was hidden beneath a beaded curtain in the doorway, standing in the small entrance she could spy through it. Inside the main room lay many futons and divians as well as cushions on the ground. The courtesans working here were dressed in little but straps of silk that did not really cover their bodies but rather adorned the curves of their shape. 

Her eyes lingered for long on the body of a beautiful woman with a mane of curly bright red hair, who only wore a shawl of golden silk wrapped around her hips and nothing else. Her full breasts were standing up plump and perky. She looked like a lion who proudly expected her next prey. Never had she seen a naked woman apart from those in her family before. 

With time Vaenya could feel her own body grow more womanly. She had flowered not long after her four and tenth name day, at the first sight of the blood between her legs she started to scream out loud. Of course she knew what would be coming for her as she matured, yet her first thought had been that the cuts on her legs opened again and she was slowly bleeding to death. At her crying Vaenar ran into her chambers at once, only to quickly leave with a reddened face after he realized what was the cause of her distress. He then sent Melis to explain everything to her, she was a woman now she had told her, not a little girl anymore. 

Yet little did remind the bodies of those opulent and alluring women of her own slowly growing bosom or still skinny legs. Now some of them looked down on her with a warm smile, others had a more cold gaze and questioning look left for her. She did not even know what she was about to do, all she did was follow that perverse looking man and somehow try to find out his name. 

Trying to not draw too much attention on her person, she sneaked through the place. The walls inside were painted red, fitting all the red fabrics the place was lavishly furnished with such as fine tapestries and curtains. On the walls artworks depicted many different forms of lovemaking, from men and women and each with each other, alone or in a group. She was staring at a particular piece that was engraved with a man and a woman being tangled with each other in what looked like a rather painful knot, their faces however radiated pleasure and made her face grow hot. All those illustrations together with the moaning and little dressed escorts made her sense a pressure in her abdomen she had felt on occasion lately. 

“Are you looking for work?” A serious looking older woman asked her while she was lost in her thoughts. 

“I…? Yes, yes. I am in need for coin, mistress.” Stunned she had to make a plan as she went on. 

“How old are you? Have you even flowered yet?”

“Four and ten, and yes I did, recently.” 

The woman grabbed her face and took a better look at her. While she held her head in her strong grasp, Vaenya could make out the man she was looking for, sitting in another room behind her. He was casually sitting on a futon with a cup of wine in his hand, looking bored by all the near naked women dancing around him. 

“You have a pretty face.” The woman examined her. “Slim body, neither much breasts or hips, but long legs. Your hair is in terrible need of a brushing and those eyes of yours, valyrian? Are you still a maiden girl?” 

“Yes I am, mistress.” She had to avoid looking into her eyes in shame. “I have never laid with a man, or anyone for that matter.” 

She smiled, showing her awfully big teeth. “I could get a good price for your maidenhead. Tell me, what is your name?” 

“Saera.” Vaenya answered with determination. 

“Saera, a beautiful name. Come back tomorrow at the same time, I will let you stay in the business for some time first. The men should see you before they get the chance of touching that soft skin of yours, my dear. Some others will teach you in the most sublime things, even a maiden has to know how to pleasure a man. And please put on a dress, you are too valuable to sell you off as a boy.” 

Vaenya had made her way out of the house immediately and walked straight back to their manse. The old woman had bought into her disguise and accepted her as a maiden courtesan. She had to think about this for some time, she was now a whore - officially. This is so absurd she had to laugh out loud in the middle of the streets. 

Inside the gardens her teacher had already waited for her, she explained to him how she had to give letters to a herald in the harbour and he luckily kept quiet. During their daily training she could barely focus however, her mind was thinking about a dozen different things at the same time. 

Later, as she lay in bed she gently touched her chest and then let her hand wander down, pushing up her nightgown. While she was thinking of the brothel's grand room and its artworks she touched the skin of her core that had been tingling ever since. To her own surprise she had felt a wetness between her legs, believing she had her moonblood once again she drew her hand up at once, yet on her fingers there was no blood. 

* * *

The next day she started with her so-called employment. This time she had thrown over a simple sand coloured linen dress, on her right thigh she had strapped her knife tightly. One could not know what would have been demanded from her today. 

A little helpless she stood in the beaded door frame once again. A grib hand pulled her inside a smaller room with force. The old woman, the brothel keeper as she guessed by now, smiled a toothy smile at her once again. 

“A nice dress you got there, for now that must be it. When you start working I will give you some finer clothing, fit for a woman of our kind.” She looked much less stern and serious than yesterday. Happy to have made such an easy catch with the young girl just walking into her brothel. “Sit here and wait, I shall send someone after you to show you this establishment.” 

Vaenya looked through the room. It was small and dimly lit. In one corner stood some old and simple daybeds. In another corner she saw some basin with water and a pile of clothing and other fabrics. The room at two doors. It must be kind of a resting or changing place for the workers of the house. Yet so far nobody was in here, brothels were busy the entire day but most customers walked in throughout the evening hours, it was still before noon. 

Through the other door a man walked in. Vaenya panicked, thinking of to be a customer who took the wrong door. Quickly her hand reached to her thigh through an opening in the pocket of her dress and grabbed the knife. 

He saw her reaction and held his hands up at once. 

“Please! Put that away.” 

Still panting, Vaenya could not move her hand. 

“You are Saera, right? The mistress sent me to look after you.” 

His face broke into a warm smile, trying to calm her down at last. She only nodded and put her knife back where it was. 

“You have quick senses, you will need those in time.” 

“The mistress told me that she would send someone to show me the place. I just did not except, somebody like you.”

“Well there are more than pretty girls in here. Everyone has their different tastes and we care for them all. I am Evin, nice to meet you.” The boy held his hand out to her in a foreign gesture. 

He was handsome, a few years older than her, perhaps her brother's age. Evin, as he introduced himself, has long dirty blonde locks that fell down to his back and kind dark blue eyes. His lips were full and plump like those of a beautiful woman and his round face was still fresh and clean shaven. He had an accent in his voice, one that she had often heard in Braavos before yet could not really place. 

Evin pulled her up and now both walked through a narrow corridor that was connected to many of the different rooms of the establishment. Through the walls she could still hear all the moaning and wailing and she started to become uncomfortable in the presence of her company. 

“You are a maiden I was told.” he broke the awkward silence between them. 

“Yes.” she was embarrassed, _what was she even doing here?_

He just nodded without asking any further questions, he must have met girls like her before. The mistress told him to firstly show her the place and some of the things going on here. With a swift motion he slid a small painting to the side, revealing a hole in the wall. 

“Have you ever witnessed a man lying with a woman?”

“No.” 

“But you at least know what happens?” he grew impatient.

“I think so.”

“Mmh. Look through it and see for yourself. Ask if there is still anything unclear to you.”

Not unkindly he pushed her to the wall, his hands only touching her waist shortly before he let go of her. 

Through the hole she could see a couple in bed together. The man was on his back with the woman, the worker of this house she guessed, sitting on his lap, moving herself up and down. Whenever she pushed herself upwards, Vaenya could see the man’s manhood sliding in and out of her. She wanted to back down. But Evin stood himself behind her, she could feel his breath closeby. 

Finally he slid the painting back where it was and covered the hole. 

“You now know where he puts it, right?” 

With burning cheeks she nodded, her eyes fixed to the ground. Evin then held onto her shoulder and made her walk a few steps further. This time he slid open a little sliding door, smaller than her own hand. Again it was a window into the room on the other wide of the wall. Without saying anything he noted her to look through it. 

Vaenya hat to stand on her tiptoes to reach the window, but through it she again saw a man and a woman on the bed together. This time both were laying across, each one had their face between the legs of another. At once she shied away. 

“With their mouths?” turning to Evin, she was shocked. 

“Indeed. With their mouths and tongues, suckling, licking, kissing… all of that sort.” 

“How bizarre.” Vaenya said more to herself than the one standing next to her. 

Both were walking to another window in the wall, this time it was merely covered by a thick woolen curtain, once more hiding a small window to the other room. Evin opened it and cringed back immediately. 

“No need to see this, none of your expertise anyway.” He turned to the narrow staircase that led to the upper level. 

Curious Vaenya moved the fabric away and looked to the window herself. her breathing stopped for a moment as she saw the very man she walked into the brothel for. He was standing at the edge of a grand bed. In front of him was a young man on all fours. The one with the bulging eyes grabbed his hips in a firm grip and thrusted in and out of the one on all fours. 

She started to feel nauseous, there was so much pain in the younger man's face. Even if he let out sounds of pleasure, Vaenya knew better. Hastingly she made her way up the stairs. 

“Do not dawdle, Saera. There is still much we need to see.” 

They walked through this narrow corridor, it had windows to three rooms on each side. Going up another staircase, they once more went through a corridor, this one had the same amount of windows connected to the rooms, but those were not in attendance and both did not have to see much. On the level above was the biggest chamber, spanning the entire level. Among a grant four poster bed it also had a big round pool in its middle. It too had been empty at this time. But Evin told her how nobles and rich merchants like to stay in this exquisite room. Not only men seek the brothels services but also some noble women who prefered to not be seen. 

Throughout the entire tour Vaenya had to see many different couples making love, or at least pretending to do so as one was paid for it. Indeed did she previously know that a man and a woman would lay together, she was not naïve, yet never had she imagined all the different ways this could happen. 

Her and Evin reached the upper level of the house. There were no rooms where customers could enter, instead it was a resting place for the workers, similar to the one where she had waited earlier. 

“Did you see enough for today? Do you still have any questions?” 

“No, I have seen all I need to know.”

“Good.” 

“Evin, will you teach me how?” 

“How to what?” 

“Well how to do it?”

“How to fuck? Call it by its name we are in a brothel here. And no I will not. The mistress plans on earning a good coin with your maidenhead.” 

“But there are other things.” 

“Oh you are so pure aren’t you? Have you even been kissed before, young maiden?” 

“Yes of course.” Vaenya was insulted about how naïve he thought her to be. 

“Oh truly?” 

Evin pulled her towards him and pressed his mouth on hers. His soft plump lips felt warm and wet against her own. At once he opened his mouth and slid his tongue inside of her. Vaenya was perplexed, this is how one really kisses? Never had she shared such a messy and sloppy experience. Even the more intense kisses she had given her cousin two years ago were chastised to whatever Evin currently did to her. His hand grabbed her chest while the other moved along her waist. 

It did not feel wrong, only strange. His tongue touched hers and she could taste the lot of him. He broke the kiss only to push her onto the settee where he placed himself on top of her, his mouth finding hers once again. This time his hand moved up her dress and she could only stand still in shock. 

“You did enjoy what you have seen didn’t you girl?” With his fingers he slid across her core, the wet feeling just like blood was there once more. 

Evin kissed her mouth once again while his hands moved along between her legs. With his fingers he touched her most sensitive area without any hesitation. Vaenya could only jump a little as he suddenly put a finger inside of her. Moving it in and out again, the tight feeling laid itself over her abdomen. Evin kept the movements steady, with his thumb he slid over other, more sensitive areas of her core. 

The entire time he had kissed her, breaking their embrace every once and now for the both of them to catch their breaths. Vaenya could lay back and lax her muscles. Closing her eyes she imagined her laying in her bed in Pentos with her cousin pressing his weight on top of her instead of some stranger in a brothel. 

Lost in her pleasure she moved her hips to mirror his movements and felt something hard pressing into her stomach. 

The knot tightened in her abdomen and she withered beneath the man pressing her in the cushions of the dusty settee. 

With a loud scream she had found her release and a strong wave rolling through her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she was panting. Above her, Evin looked kindly at her. 

“Indeed are you a maiden, but now you are at least one who had her pleasure before.” 

Evin got up and wiped his finger on his linen shirt. Vaenya was still shocked and could not move a little bit, still breathing heavily she looked up to Evin. He was beautiful, almost feminine, he looked so innocent but his eyes seemed to be decades older than himself. Currently he had all the power over her, he had pleasured her for the first time and she was speechless. Never had she felt anything like this before, it was rotten but she felt so good doing it. If this is only how it felt using someone’s fingers she was eager to find out to rest. She still lay there, with her dress pulled up and her core in plain sight for him. 

He still looked at her flushed state with a small smile on his lips and she was already longing for his touch again. 

She tried to regain her composure as they walked back down. As she had her lessons for today she would be going home one more. 

“Do you have a place to sleep?” Evin asked her as she was already on the doorstep of the back door entrance. 

“Of course, I have a roof above my head indeed.” 

“I just wanted to be sure. Many young girls coming here do not have a home. I myself live in the small room beneath the roof. Just say if you need anything.” 

She nodded kindly before she stepped back onto the alley. Suddenly she felt incredibly bad, she was not that person. She was not that girl who claimed to be a poor peasant who needs to work in a brothel. Vaenya would now go back to the richer part of the city into her big manse and scrub all of the dirt and filth off her that she has taken with her from the brothel. 

Although she could not stop thinking about Evin and the way he had touched her. 

The next morning she was unable to even look Vaenar or Melis into the eyes. Which was not big of a challenge since these two were only giggling and whispering to each other. Her stomach was turning itself as she liked upon the food on the table and she excused herself for the day. Her brother reminded her to be punctual for her lessons with her trainer in arms today after he had complained about her slacking in during the last few days.

“What are you even doing in the city all these hours?” Vaenar asked, more amused than curious.

“Today I want to go the mummer’s ship. I have been looking at different mummers plays throughout the last fortnight if this is what you want to know. The city does not feel as restricting as this house.” 

The light smile on her brother's face disappeared and he frowned instead. 

Turning on her heel she walked outside. The day has been cold and she could see a thin layer of ice on the canals. Today she has worn a dress again and so she silently damned herself for not putting on proper stockings. 

Vaenya entered the Satin Palace through the back door this time and waited in the small workers room on the ground level. Today it was busier and two women she had not seen before changed their clothing right in front of her. She tried to keep her eyes from their bodies but it was a much too interesting sight to simply look away. 

“Do you know where Evin is?” she asked into the room, “ I am supposed to wait here for him.”

“He got a customer.” The dark one with the thick accent of the summer islands said. 

After some time she got bored of waiting and decided to walk through the corridor herself, quickly she however overthrew the idea of looking through all the small holes in the walls. Too afraid she was of accidentally finding Evin, this was too private and it did not feel right for her to disturb such a moment. 

Eventually she found him sitting on the upper staircase, bent over and face hidden in the crock of his elbow. Silently she sat herself next to him. He must have had a painful experience with said customer. As he started to weep silently, she put her arm around his shoulders, trying to calm him. It took some time and his own breath finally stabilized again. Moving his head back up he pressed a small kiss on her temple. 

“Tell me why you are really here.” 

“I was looking for you down-” she could not finish her sentence before he interrupted her. 

“No, not why you sit here next to me. Why are you in this place? You are different from the girls who need coin and a place to sleep.” 

Vaenya could not say anything, she hated having to lie to him. So far he had been honest and kind to her and she felt horrible using him to her own good. 

“Sometimes noble daughters come here, either to save their own gold or to have some fun and anger their fathers.” 

She had to laugh, oh what her father would think of her being in such a place. Not that he would avoid stepping in a pillow house. 

“The man yesterday, the one in the room behind the younger man.” Evis began frowning, “You know who I mean, the one we saw through the window. Do you know his name?” 

Vaenya looked into his face to find any sign of what he was thinking but it was blank, only his eyes radiated a certain sadness. 

“Do you mean Joran? The ugly fucker with the face of a girl and the body of an old hag?”

“Have you ever-” she tried to find the right words without offending him, “had him as a customer?” 

“Unfortunately yes, he usually prefers young boys, or young girls sometimes too. But if there is no one else he will do with me.” Evin’s voice was full of poison and hatred and Vaenya suddenly hated this pervert even more. 

“This is all I needed to know. This is why I was here.” 

Vaenya got up and held her hands out for him but he declined it. 

“So you do not plan on starting to work here then?” The sarcasm did not miss her. 

“No. I am sorry for not telling you the truth, but I did not know who I met yesterday. I also did not want to cheat you on your hard earned coin, how much do I owe you for… for what you have taught me yesterday?”

“Don’t. You are telling them his name aren’t you? If you could get rid of him it would be worth more than anything.” 

She studied his face intensely, as beautiful as he was it was still overshadowed by his sadness and sorrow. For a moment she forgot her own misery and wanted to end this terrible Perverts life just for the sake of the poor broken boy sitting in front of her. Smiling reassuringly at him she walked down the stairs quickly.

* * *

“ _Joran, Joran, Joran_ ” she repeated the name over and over as she was walking through the streets and alleys, over bridges and up and down many steps. 

_Joran_ \- she laid the name on her tongue, _Joran_ \- tried to say it in different ways, _Joran_ \- she allowed both poison and sweet sang to flow with her voice. 

It was fascinating to her how much power a simple word would have. Nothing but a name. But all that mattered to her for now. 

She pushed the weirwood and the ebony doors open once more. The great all of the temple of the Many Faced God stayed the same, quiet and eerie. 

She had no patience to sit quietly on the edge of the circular pool and she walked back and forth from wall to wall, pillar to pillar, statue to statue. Perhaps disturbing the two poor figures waiting in agony to be helped. 

In truth, the priest had visited them before he paid any attention to her. One he had given a cup from the water out of the pool, the other he only talked to. Finally he approached her. 

“Valar morghulis.” she said before he could even open his mouth. 

“Valar dohaeris. This time you allowed yourself some more time between your visits Vaenya Belaerys.” 

“I got what you asked me for. The name, I found out the name of one of the men.” 

“So? Tell me then.”

“Joran, his name is Joran. He is often in the Satin Place, this is where you can find him.”

“We will find him nonetheless, my dear. Thank you for your assignment, now there is just one more thing.” 

Vaenya grabbed into her pockets drawing out a pouch filled with gold. She did not know how much the faceless men demanded for the assasination of that scum so she took all of the coins she had laying inside her room, earlier that day. She felt terrible for not giving Evin anything, she would go back to the Satin Palace she told herself. She wanted to see his face when she told him that Joran the Pervert would never hurt him or anyone else again. 

The priest opened the pouch and quickly counted the coins inside. Looking back at her he asked her with a sincere face. 

“Is this what his death is worth to you?” 

She nodded

“So it will be.”

“When will it happen?” 

“Do not be impatient my dear. The one you have assigned us with will eventually find his demise. Sooner or later.” 

She had spent a fortnight now just standing in the canal across the Satin Palace, waiting for just the smallest sign. Yet there was none. Vaenya had seen some familiar faces, the red haired woman who looked like a lion, the mistress and some other girls she had encountered while walking through the corridors. Unfortunately she did not once see Evin, neither walking through the main entrance nor using the back door at the alley on the side of the building. He did have little reasoning to leave the place, after all he told her to live inside the small room he had kissed her in.

Ever since that day she could not stop thinking about his touches. She felt a little guilty, had she not just sworn to love her princeling cousin more than anything? But what happened between Evin and her was different, it was as if he had shown her who she was, prepared her for what was to come. It was his job, he was being told to warm her up more or less. Vaenya was not mad for this and she did not feel any significant feeling for him that was not platonic, still she often repeated his movements herself on her own bed at night. Sometimes she remembered what he did in that room beneath the roof, other times she thought of her cousin, other times however she focused on the artworks in the brothel or the almost naked concubines walking through it. 

It did not matter where her mind wandered off to. Eventually she would experience the familiar pressure and pleasure waves coming over her. 

One evening her Brother and Melis had called her for a special feast. The kitchen was decorated and the cooks had put many different foods on the table. Vaenya did wonder what was the occasion for it. As far as she could remember it was not the name day of either one of them, nor was it a holiday of ancient valyrian origin. 

Vaenar and Melis still looked happy and delighted as they have been in the last month. 

“So what is the reasoning for all of this? Did I miss anything?” 

Both looked at each other with wide smiles in each face. 

“I am with child!” Melis almost shouted 

“That is right, I will soon become a father.” Vaenar agreed with his wife.

This explained their recent behaviour, why they were so bubbly lately and could not keep from each other. Vaenya was happy for them and first hugged her good-sister and then her brother thoroughly. 

Melis was due in a couple of turns of the moon and Vaenya promised her to keep her company in that time. 

The same night Vaenya had planned on writing to her cousin Aemond. She had been putting it off for some time now. After the way Evin had touched her in the brothel it also was hard for her to once again write about yearning for her cousin's touch. 

She instead chose to write to the only person who would applaud her for such a deed. To her cousin Orla she therefore wrote exactly how and why she had found herself inside a brothel with a stranger's fingers inside of her, screaming throughout the entire establishment. This would perhaps even impress her wanton lyseni kin. 

After some time she once again stood across the Satin Palace. She did try to avoid going any closer to it, after all the Mistress could still be looking for her. The woman had probably already promised her maidenhead for the highest bidder. Indeed Vaenya never planned to seriously work there. All she needed was a reason to sneak around the place without getting thrown out. After all she was not like princess Seara who had enjoyed giving herself away to many a different lordling. Seara was never an agreeable girl. 

Vaenya saw the suffering Evin went through, he was not at this place because he wanted to or because he had to show his father how rebellious he was. He had no other choice, he had to do it to survive. 

With an awake gaze she now eyed the back alley of the brothel as she saw a young boy, not older than her, walking through the door. He was not tall as a man, had fluffy light brown hair and a beautiful still childish face. Never had she seen him there before, although she did not know how many workers the place truly had. Still, it had made her suspicious. Evin told her how Joran has a preference for young boys. Perhaps the man who was responsible for her suffering had seeked the Satin Palace once again to fulfill his need of satisfaction with a young boy. 

So Vaenya followed the boy, her hood pulled deep into her face. He walked through the corridors and vanished into a hidden door that led to a room where escorts usually received customers. It was still early in the morning and the place was quiet as the times she had been here before. Feeling along the wall she looked for a little hole of window that allowed her to spy into the chamber he had walked into. 

Her heart started to race as she saw perverse Joran sitting on a sette, in loud conversation with the boy. She had to grab her dagger tightly, all she wanted to do was to slit his throat and stab him over and over but also cause him as much pain as she could. The older man now pulled the boy onto his lap, whispering things into his ear that made him laugh out loud once more. It was an awful picture indeed, it looked more like a father telling his son tales than a man who paid to have this boy to pleasure him. 

The younger now got up and walked to a tray, pouring two cups of wine. Joran must have already had more than just one drink. His awful feminine yet bizarre looking face was flushed red at this stage. He threw the boy constant japs, being the silent onlooker Vaenya was now able to clearly listen to his voice. It was high and almost shrill with a foreign accent in his bastard valyrian. Paired with his name, he could originally be from Westeros, she thought. Not that it would surprise her, Braavos is a port city after all. 

Joran’s gaze was all on the fluffy haired boy, his eyes bulging out of its holes. It was hard to see him so clear in front of him. A year prior he had pressed himself on top of her, between her legs. Vaenya did not want to finish her thought, so disgusted had she become with herself. This was not his to take, this was not his to touch or see or claim. She wanted to see him suffer. 

Still at the tray with the jug of wine, the boy turned his back to Joran. As he lifted his heas he directly stared at Vaenya. His eyes have found hers through the hole in the wall. Her heart was racing and she started panting. She knew those kind and dark eyes. Without removing his gaze from her, he grabbed a small bottle made out of clear glass out of his pocket. With a swift motion he poured the entire liquid within into one of the cups of wine. Joran was too busy telling a dumb story about an even dumber smuggler to sense was the boy was doing.

Joran now pulled the boy onto his lap once more and forced a kiss on him, his hands wandering all over his body. The boy did allow all of this without any protest. Then he handed one of the cups of wine to Joran, who drank it all up with a single big gulp. Even from here Vaenya could see a triumphant gleam in the boy's eye. 

It did happen fast. Faster than she thought. Joran began to cough, the boy pretending to be concerned, but he did not do anything. The older man continued to cough, this time paired with sharp inhales. The noise coming from his throat was terrible but it sounded like the sweetest song to her ears. Slowly his face turned purple as he was clinging onto the settee with all his force. His eyes almost came out of his head, they were bleeding. Without any success he made more attempts to catch his breath, yet he could easily be beneath the water's surface as the air did not reach his lungs. With a wide open mouth and a bright purple face he fell to the ground. His body shaking once more as he soiled himself the moment life left his body. 

The entire time the boy stood there motionless. His face did not show any sign of either pity or shook. All she saw was his blank expression. He did wait a little after the figure on the grund had stopped moving or making any sound, to walk back to the tray once again. Vaenya could not see what he did there but she quickly saw how he now bent over the lifeless body. With quick motions he pulled something from between his lips, only to put it inside the dead man’s mouth. It looked like a small pebble, perhaps the stone of an olive. 

As he got up he faced the wall again, walking towards it so that he was only a single step away from her. 

“There was no need for you to watch over our assignment. We usually fulfill our tasks without being closely eyed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will change up in the next chapter as we will be in King's Landing once more.


	10. Parchment Wyvrens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In King's Landing, Aemond has to deal with daily life at court and his own demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this chapter to mirror the previous one in certain ways. Both have to deal with their own distress of growing up.

King’s Landing 124 AC

Aemond removed the chains from Vhagar, after he returned to the Dragonpit. They had been flying down along the King’s Road into the Kingswood. In the dense forest he let his dragon hunt on boar and bears, until he made his way up to a lake along the Wendwater. It was a beautiful scenery, the lake surrounded by the quiet woods, still the King’s road crossed the river and brought merchants and travellers with them. One could build a beautiful castle here, Aemond had thought. But the place put him in a bitter mood, nearly three years ago he had been here for the first time, during their journey to Stonedance along with his mother and cousins with their mother. Atop on Vhagar he had seen the lake first and suggested that they would rest there for a short while. Ever since then he often went back when he wanted to be alone, away from the capital and the hectics of the court. 

He let his mind wander, he recalled how a lot of things changed. Lady Taeleste was dead and his beloved cousin injured. Remembering as it was just yesterday he thought about the time his father asked him to his solar; he was told how Vaenya is laying sick due to an ambush in the streets of Braavos and suffered injuries while her mother did not live to see the day. His father had further warned him not to do anything thoughtless and mount his dragon in his state. He did it anyway a week later, not to fly east to the Free City, but rather south to the Wendwater Lake. He had to be alone, with his sword he slashed into a tree over and over again until his arms were too heavy and the steel dulled. All he wanted to go bathe those who were responsible in dragon flame, letting them die a slow and painful death for what they had done. He did not weep, yet he was sad for Lady Taeleste’s death, as well as for his cousin's loss. 

Surprisingly Taeleste had been very fond of him, she did not treat him like most others did. One morning in Pentos he was woken up by her standing next to Vaenya’s bed, his cousin was not in the room and he was alone. Startled he tried to rationalize himself, that he fell asleep after returning something and they lost themselves in talking and eventually both fell asleep. Taeleste however had smiled softly and gently brushed over his hair. They talked briefly, about the city, his family and also about Vaenya. She was kind to him, however beneath her still stern gaze he could not find the courage to tell her how he truly felt about her daughter. So he merely referred to her as his best friend, or favourite cousin. She did not address this conversation during the following time in Pentos, but she was watching them closely everytime he would leave the manse together with Vaenya. 

It had been months after the attack in Braavos, that he got notice of his cousins waking; she was still weak but conscious. He had sent her many letters, none of them ever being answered. It was earlier this year, when he found a piece of wrapped parchment sitting on his bed. Vaenya had written him for his name day, excused herself for not accepting his invitation to the capital, as she was still weak and unable for a longer ride on ship, she also apologized for the late reply; she had read all of his letters but could not find the strength to write to him already. Aemond had smiled at her delicate high valyrian writing, the letter even smelled like her, like the expensive oils she liked to bathe in. 

The scent had been flowing around her everywhere she went. He could smell it on the shore on Driftmark, as they ran through the secret passages of the Red Keep and when he buried his nose in her hair every night in Pentos. He had then flown back to the lake in the Kingswood, imagining how as soon as Vaenya would be better, he would take her with him to this place and how he could perhaps fully indulge himself in the smells of her skin. 

As he was now riding back to the Red Keep he recalled how his visit to Pentos had been the happiest time of his life, at least till now. Far away from the capital he could feel as if he was able to breathe fully for the first time. It surely helped a lot that he could spend as much time with Vaenya without the watchful eyes of the court as they wanted. Everyday they would walk through the city, sit in the gardens or on the beach and every night he would sneak into her room and they talked for hours. Putting a kiss on her lips during their first night was a spontaneous decision. The moment was perfect and it had overcome him, from that point on they were repeating this on the regular, even sharing little pecks whenever they were alone during the day. Laying in the dark, next to each other on her bed however, he made sure to let his lips linger on hers a little longer. If they were too tired to stay awake any longer, she would turn around and fall asleep quickly and soundlessly. He wanted to touch her arms and shoulders; brush the hair out of her face, but never had the nerve to, so he had grabbed her hand and held it tight. Never had he slept as well as during this time. One night, she turned herself towards him and wrung her arms around his torso, burying her face in his chest. He had kissed the top of her head and fell asleep with a smile in his lips. It had all passed too soon, as both said their farewells they were excitedly looking forward to seeing each other again in a few turns of the moon, perhaps again in the capital. First they could not visit for their shared birthday, then disaster struck. 

Often had he wished himself back into her room in the spicemonger’s manse, the sea softly crashing against the shore and Vaenya softly breathing against his skin. Never had he imagined himself to become like this. Yet every time his mind wandered off to his cousin his heart grew heavy and a smile formed on his lips. 

Inside his chambers in Maegor’s Holdfast he freshened up before he was to talk to his father. Some days prior he requested a hearing with the King. Carefully he laid his words out in front of him, he could not let his temper take over himself once more, what he was about the request demanded all of his competence. Aemond took a deep breath before he knocked on the great wooden door. At command he let himself inside. Luckily he was alone inside without his Hand or any other members of the small council. 

“Father, thank you for finding time for me.” He greeted Viserys. 

“Of course Aemond, I am always glad to have the chance to spend time with my children.”

Aemond forced himself to smile 

“How are you doing my son? I heard that you focus a lot on your training lately?” Viserys poured them both some wine into golden cups. 

He tasted the liquid and had to suppress his distaste for the Arbor gold, he much preferred the sour taste of a Dornish red. 

“Ser Criston trains me well father, he says that I shall be a great warrior if I keep my discipline.”

“Oh and that you should look over! You are hot tempered, do not let it get into your head.” Viserys took a heavy gulp out of his cup, “You just came back from flying did you?” 

Aemond nodded politely. 

“Mighty Vhagar’s thunder of a wing flap cannot be mistaken for anything else! I still remember my father riding her, he did little in his later years but whenever the dragon of the conquest ascended the entire city and all of the surrounding villages were in awe. She was a lot faster back then I must agree, she must have grown considerably in the years Lady Laena mounted her and took her through the Free Cities.”

Viserys drifted off, perhaps since he did not know more topics he could share with his son. 

“Yes she did grow, still I would not call her slow for what it is worth. She is very steady in the air and has always been more than reliable.” 

“I do not want to get over how you came to that dragon, but I must say that it does make me proud seeing how my son claimed my own fathers mount.”

His father had never said that he was proud of anything he had ever done and so he could not bring himself to feel any different after Viserys’ praise. 

“I wanted to talk to you about a serious matter, father.” 

“Go on then, that is why we are here.” 

“As you know I will be five and ten soon. I do believe it is time to speak about a fitting betrothal.” 

“A betrothal? I must say this comes off as a surprise Aemond, why are you currently worrying about such matters?”

“Am I not a prince of the blood? Most of your family gets betrothed, even wed at a young age.”

“Yes, yes I am very aware of this, as I myself wed my dear Aemma at only six and ten. I am glad that you think about such concerns on your own, but would you mind telling me how this came to your thought?” 

“To speak true, I have been thinking about this for many a year now, but it would not have been appropriate previously.” 

“I suspect you are already thinking of a befitting match?” 

Aemond took a sip of his cup, hoping the wine would soothe his nerves and help him deliver what he had wished silently to himself over and over. Exhaling deeply he let it out. 

“Lady Vaenya. We did talk about it briefly before and now also found the topic in our letters. Hence we came to the agreement that I should ask you for your allowance.” 

“Nothing that I would not have expected. The two of you must have been separated at birth I sometimes wonder.” Viserys had a warm reassuring smile on his lips. “Yet forgive me my question, did Lady Vaenya not suffer severe injuries during that awful attack last year? Would she even be a befitting wife?” 

Aemond shook his head in disbelief. Did his father really just question his cousin's ability to fulfill any marital duties? To him this would not be of much importance as all he wanted was to have Vaenya by his side. 

“Vaenya did recover from her injuries, furthermore she told me that her healers are positive she did not take any consequential damage.”

Viserys gave him a grunting noise, not yet sounding fully convinced. 

“An allegiance between our House of Targaryen and the Belaerys Family would be most fitting. Also Vaenya is my first cousin, your own niece, marrying within the family would stay true to our tradition. Especially since I do not have any more sisters.”

Aemond continued, forcing himself to say the latter part of the sentence without any disgust. He has nothing against Helaena but the idea of marrying one of his sisters made him sick to his stomach. 

“You are right there Aemond, considering Vaenya is my own brother's daughter, would mean potential future dragon riders, if she would not make a decent one herself.” Viserys smiled but Aemond’s hands started to get sweaty, his patience would soon leave him. ”Considering a possible allegiance, I was always most fond of Lady Taeleste, however since her death, the crown’s contact to the Belaerys is not as it used to be.”

“And that is where a marriage would bring them closer to us.” 

“In truth. Although House Targaryen did not marry into the great westerosi Houses often before, considering I have two unmarried sons, perhaps I should look for allegiances that would bind this kingdom closer together instead looking for influential but small foreign powers.” 

Aemond clenched his jaw, how could his father dare even to suggest such an offense. 

“My own mother is off a great Westerosi house.” Aemond realized that he had to swallow his pride for once and accept his heritage. “I myself am only half Targaryen, marrying into another andal house could thinnen our blood purity. As well as you said, you have two unmarried sons and Daeron does beautifully in Oldtown, as I was being told. He is much closer to the high Lords and Ladies from this Kingdom than I could ever be.”

“You stand your ground son, I must say. I shall consider this possible union and if I made a decision I will write to Vaenar Belaerys myself. He needs to have his say in this matter as well, an allegiance goes both ways. Since Lady Vaenya is my brothers natural daughter, the protection over her lays by her brother and the crown cannot decide such matters on their own.” 

The prince nodded at his father, now having a smile on his lips that he did not need to force himself to. 

“Now off with you, I will call you back as soon as I have any new developments for you.”

He thanked his father for the time and his consideration and left the solar with a much lighter feel that he had entered it. 

In his room he took parchment and a quill out at once. He did indeed not tell Vaenya that he would ask his father for her Hand in marriage as of this time, but he was sure that she would agree. Their time in Pentos made sure that there was more between them than a friendship between cousins. They have briefly talked about this topic before, although she was determined that her status would not allow for an union between them, his father left him positive after their conversation today. 

In her letters she did also repeat over and over how much she missed him and that she cannot wait to visit him in the capital. Aemond could not visit her in Braavos as he would not be allowed to fly there alone and the royal family avoided the free city as much as they could. All they could do was to wait and meanwhile write letters as much as it was possible. 

But for now he hesitated, telling her already about a possible marriage could be a bad omen; as she liked to call such things. In this way Vaenya was rather superstitious, Aemond thought this as more stupid than warily but she would want it that way. In the future he would have to learn to compromise and respect his wife’s notions, not that it would be any hard; Vaenya and him had the same judgement of most things. Another reason why he could never imagine him with any other woman, not even for the lowest tasks. 

He decided to write her as soon as his father would accept their union, she would have to be overjoyed he was sure of that.

* * *

In the following weeks he focused on his training as usual, while making sure he presented himself in the best possible way. He defeated his opponents without hurting them unnecessarily, his father should see that he was competent and worthy. 

He did not fly back to the Wendwater lake as he felt rather pleased and could for once stand life at court. Aemond made sure to spend time with Helaena and her twins, the babbling babes put the occasional smile on his lips. His sister asked for his sudden interest. 

“Can I not spend time with my niece and nephew? As we both know, their own father does not see them very often.” 

Helaena agreed with a sad nod. At least he does not bother her any longer since she gave birth. As long as he finds something to stick his cock in, he leaves their sister to her own. Aegon disgusts him with his whoring and gluttony, he had once idolized his brother but he soon turned out to be a disappointment. 

It was on a day like this, he was with Helaena as Jaehaera took her first wobbly steps from her mother to her uncle. Aemond was delighted in witnessing the development of his niece, she was smaller and slower to learn than her brother, yet he liked her nevertheless. Which could be justified by her being mesmerized by the sapphire he wore in his eye socket. Others, especially children, always stared at his face in horror, even little Jaeherys and his own brother Daeron avoided looking straight at the gemstone. Not Jaehaera however, she often tried to grab it and Aemond could not help himself but laugh at her failing attempts. Evil tongues suggested that she had been simple, he wished to bury his sword in those who dared to talk like that about his blood. 

Jaehaera had just thrown herself around his neck as he saw his Ser Otto standing in the door frame. Aemond gave the giggling little girl into her mother’s arms and turned to his grandfather. 

“She is doing well, don’t you agree?” 

Otto did not need to answer, Aemond knew how he thought about his great-granddaughter. 

“His Grace the King sent me, he expects you in his solar.” 

He knew what this was about, agitated he said good bye to his sister and niece before making his way to his father. His legs carried him quickly and now he was nervous standing in front of that door again. 

Viserys greeted him, his face not showing any signs. 

“Sit down, we have to talk.” He handed him a cup of wine and demanded him to drink. 

“After our previous conversation I did decide to write to Vaenar Belaerys myself.” 

Nervously, Aemond moved around in his chair, taking another sip of the again way to sweet wine, but he did not care this time. 

“I suppose that you did not know this as of now. Vaenar has told me that he has already agreed for a betrothal of his sister to the Prince of Pentos.” 

Aemond’s heart skipped a beat, he became even paler than he already is, cold sweat was running down his back and he felt his anger boiling up inside of him. 

“I did not know of this father, the last time I corresponded with my cousin she mentioned no such thing.” 

“Yes, yes, it was a recent decision. Vaenar thought it to be a good decision to send his sister back to Pentos where she could be around her grandfather and in a surrounding that is familiar to her.” 

He growled at this revelation, his pulse was raging and he wanted to yell into his fathers face. Yet Aemond tried his best on staying still on his chair.

“I know this is not what you had hoped for. Unfortunately we cannot object to this decision.”

Aemond nodded, avoiding to look into his father's eyes and focusing on the window and the city beneath instead. 

“I do believe that it is for the better anyway. Lady Vaenya is of foreign birth and the product of a union that is not accepted in the eyes of the faith.” 

“Well then fuck the faith!” He was shouting now, his anger eventually had taken over him. “Who cares about them anyway.’

“I forbid you to use such language in my presence Aemond! This entire Kingdom cares about the faith! Furthermore they are the ones allowing this family to stay where we currently are. It would be a great offence not only to the faith but also to the high Lords if a son of the King is married to a bastard girl.” 

At one Aemond jumped out of his chair, almost knocking it over in the process. As he was to step through the door he heard his father shouting behind him. 

“I did not send you off already” 

He turned around to his father, his face a mirror of anger and frustration. 

“Do not do anything you might regret later” this time his voice sounded softer, yet still carrying a certain threat. 

Aemond was furious. How could this happen? Was Vaenar out of his mind? Did his father give in to those idiotic men that were constantly running around him? 

He commanded the stable boys to saddle a horse at once, hearing his angry tone they did not hesitate and he made his way to the dragon pit quickly. 

Saddling Vhagar himself as he had no patience for the dragon keepers, he thought about visiting said pentoshi prince and castrating him by dragon bite. The mental image made him snicker in his misery, yet it would do little to change his fathers decision. 

Viserys ignored that his own daughter birthed three sons and gladly accepted them as future rulers of this kingdom, yet he would not let his second son marry his own niece. What a hypocrite that old man was, Aemond thought. 

As he ascended into the air on top of his great dragon he saw a glimpse of gold behind him. Aegon must have seen his brother leaving the Keep enraged and decided to follow him, perhaps even on their fathers wish. In his own furor he did not see Aegon following him. 

Sunfyre was a lot smaller and swifter in the air than old Vhagar and quickly went in front of them, apparently directing him in a different way. Aemond did not want to fly across the narrow sea anyway, his direction was south; to the Kingswood. 

Without saying anything his brother flew next to him until they descended at the Wendwater Lake. 

“Is this where you are always going whenever you spend the entire day?” 

“What do you want Aegon?” He hissed at his elder brother. 

“I have met father in the corridors, he told me… about everything. I thought that I should keep an eye on you. Didn’t expect you to come here.” 

“It is none of your business now leave me alone.” 

“It is plenty of my business if my brother decides himself to fly over the sea and burn an entire city down.” 

“This was not my intention, I simply wanted to be alone, but now you are only giving me ideas.” 

“Come on, not even you would endanger our entire kingdom over such a petty matter. Are you really that bitter just because father did not let you wed our cousin?” 

“Shut up Aegon! This is a matter between me and father, could you leave now?” 

He was so angry, his ears were ringing, his vision got blurry. 

“Aemond, we are princes, sons of the King; we do not decide on such affairs.” 

He did not answer his brother and silently damned himself for not bringing any weapon with him. If he had at least a dagger with him he might throw it in his direction. 

“You are but four and ten, in a few years time you will take a wife that is at least pleasant to the eyes and spend all carnal desires left with the pretty girls on the street of silk. And if she is that ugly you can still insist of turning off the furnace when the two of you are in bed, at least that’s what I tell Helaena when I need to make an heir.”’

“You disgust me. And do not talk about our sister like that, you are a disgrace Aegon.” 

“You will understand me with time. What I mean is that it is not for us to choose but we can still make the best out of it.” 

They stayed there for quite some time. After Aemond hit tree trunks with branches and stones for a while he started to talk about his niece and nephew, Aegon's children. He did not know that his daughter made her first steps today, he did not know what she walked into his arms at first. He did not care. 

* * *

In the weeks following he focused on his training once more. This time because it took his mind off other things. He woke up at first light, trained with Ser Criston until the sun was down and then fell dead into his bed. He still had lessons with the Maester but he could not focus on anything, what was this useless stuff worth anyway. Years ago the Lord Commander was assigned to train him in sword and sparring to take off his anger and make him a more calm and collected version of himself, but all it did was make him even more mad. 

He could not force himself to write to Vaenya, he did not even have the will to fly Vhagar. All he did was fight in the courtyard, scarring the squires away. If Ser Criston was eventually exhausted he sent for another King's Guard or the master of arms, but Aemond never got tired; he kept in the courtyard throughout the entire day. 

On one evening as he got back into his chambers and was ready to fall into a deep dreamless sleep, he saw a figure laying on his bed. He drew his sword at once, ready to shove it into whoever was invading his personal space. 

“There is no need for bloodshed, my prince.” A female voice called out. 

At once a beautiful woman stepped out, she wore nothing but a sheer shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She had long silver-gold hair that fell over her breasts and somewhat purple eyes as far as he could tell. 

“What are you doing in my room?” he tried to protest but she flew herself towards him pressing her naked body onto his. 

“Are you not tired, your grace? I am here to take your mind off for a while, I am all yours, I only belong to you.” She took his hands and placed them on her breasts with force. 

After the first shock, he pushed her away from him. 

“But my prince, do you not want me?” Her voice sounded almost like a song, sweet like a melody. 

“Get out or I will make sure that there will be bloodshed.” 

Yet the whore was not scared and kept her nimble hands on him, unclenching his armour and touching his bare skin beneath. 

“I was told that you have never been with a woman before. I can change that as well I can teach you how to please a woman, probably.” 

She wrung herself around his neck, this time pressing her lips on his. Quickly she moved her tongue inside his mouth, never had he felt such a thing before. He moved his tongue along hers and she let out moans of pleasure. His own body was betraying him and he grew to like this interaction. Shutting his eye he brushed over her hair, imagining it was someone else he was kissing at this moment. 

Realizing what he was doing he broke the kiss and looked at the whore in disgust. She was not ugly, but looked common and uninteresting. With new repulsion he grabbed her chin and threw her to the bed. She looked surprised and spread her legs for his view. He could take her right here, she was there, ready for him. If she turned around he would not even have to look into that face of hers. 

Instead he took his thick travelling coat and threw it at her. Aemond would never disgrace himself with a common whore. Threatening to cut her throat he sent her out, this time she must have been afraid as she did without any bidding. 

Breathless he stared into the fire trying to recollect what just happened. He was nauseous and wanted to fall on his sword for all it was worth. Lost in his misery he did not hear the knock on his door, so he only noticed Aegon as he already stood in the middle of his room. 

“Did you like my present?” he smirked. 

“What were you thinking bringing a dirty whore into my chambers?” 

“For your information, this was a quite expensive lady from Lys. Did cost me quite some coin, but I thought it would be worth it. Nice long silver hair and purple eyes, have you seen those breasts? Delicious isn’t she?”

“What was your intention anyway?”

“For you to put your cock in something! Emptying your balls every now and then would give you the satisfaction all the time training in the yard with Ser Criston will not. To me there is nothing to improve my mood as a good fuck. A willing woman with big tits to suck on, an expert mouth and a pretty face, that is all one needs.”

“Please, not everyone enjoys burying their cock where many others had been before. You disgust me.”

“You are pathetic, brother, at your age I had already had a woman, but you prefer to continue to play being a knight.” Aegon’s face contorted into a cruel smile, ”Look I even made sure the girl looks somewhat like that cousin of ours, later will fuck her myself; to see what you see in that bastard girl.” 

Aemond felt his face burning, with fast steps he walked over to his brother, Aegon might be older than him but Aemond had always been the better one at sparring and any fighting for that matter. He wanted to hit his brother with as much force as he could. His fist hit his brothers face and he let out pain filled growl. He should not have provoked him like that. Aegon then stepped back and threw his hand in the air. Knowing that he would not win in a fight against his younger brother, the coward left the room quietly cursing over and over. 

The next morning he woke up with his entire body aching, barely being able to walk. He cursed himself and every god for it. As well as his imbecile of a brother. He could not train like that and therefore decided to break his fast with his family instead of sitting alone in his chambers. Luckily he found Aegon not sitting on the table. As far as he would guess, his brother would now spend his morning with the whore he had sent to his chambers last night. The thought filled him with loathing and he was unable to touch any food. 

Aemond’s mother, Queen Alicent realized that he was not doing well. After the meal she pulled him close to herself, telling him how he would need a warm bath and some time to rest. After all he would not be able to perform properly if his body was weakened. He could not object to his mother, she had been right after all. It could all just be from the encounter of last night, but even he realized that pushing himself that much was not good for him.

He did as she suggested, after sitting in steaming hot water he visited his mother in her chambers later that day. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera had been there as well and his niece came running to him as fast as her short wobbly legs could carry her. As she wrapped her arms around him he could smile truly for the first time in weeks. 

“She missed you.” His mother said in a kind voice, “she keeps babbling something that one could take for your name.” 

“Are you telling me that little Jaehaera’s first word is the name of her favourite uncle?” He pinched the babes cheek as she giggled happily. 

Alicent smiled at them sincerely. She then sent the children out together with their wet nurse, before she turned to face him. 

“Aemond I have been worried about you.” 

“There is no need, mother.” 

“Yes there is, I know you are-“ she collected herself, standing tall, “going through something and I will not stand here watching you harming yourself any further.” 

“I do as I always do, I train, I attend my lessons, I do as I am being told.”

“Stop lying to yourself, even a blind man can tell that you are suffering.”

“What do you suggest then? I already took a bath and rested for the day.” he said exhaustedly. 

“Take your mind off differently, spend more time with Jaehaera, she enjoys your company. Fly again, I have heard that you have not been in the Dragonpit in a long time.” her face softened with worry,” I cannot change your situation, but I can help you with other things.”

Aemond nodded without giving her an answer as Alicent walked over to him, taking his face in her hands. He lets her do it, by no means was he a child any longer, weeping in his mothers arms, but he was too tired and the contact of his mother was surprisingly welcome. 

“You are my fierce son! You are my strongest and most disciplined one and I have so much respect for you. I might not show it often but I am utterly proud of you.” she let go of him and he already missed her reassuring touch. 

“I have something for you, it is the history of House Targaryen. You know most of it already but this one is a new addition, written by the Maesters this year. At the end there is a chapter depicting you mounting Vhagar, the illustrations are rather lovely. You should have a look at it.” 

Aemond was slightly confused but took the book, thanking his mother. Alicent had to leave for her fathers chambers, she kissed the top of his head and sent him off. 

Back inside his own chambers he opened his mothers gift as he had nothing better to do. Laid inside were two silk ribbons to mark certain pages. He opened the latter one as he expected to see himself staring from the parchment. Indeed the happenings from Driftmark nearly five years ago had been depicted very well. The painter must have seen them at court before, since the detailed characters looked exceptionally true to their nature. 

One of the scenes illustrated the fight in the stables, to be more exact the moment that strong bastard had slashed his eye. Next to him stood two more ugly brown haired boys. In the back of the drawing was a screaming silver haired girl with blood on her hands. In truth Vaenya was much more beautiful than that, yet he was joyful seeing her being painted, even if she had a morbid look on her face. On the next pages he found another painting of himself, this time he stood proud in front of his Vhagar, his empty eye covered by a patch. 

Skimming through the pages he read about Aegon’s and Helaena’s marriage and the birth of their children. The book's author only mentioned Jaehaerys’ six fingers and toes and the suspected simpleness of Jaehaera, yet Aemond thought to read out a mocking tone in his writing. Whoever it was, either Maester or another idiot, they should experience a bit of dragonflame, he thought, just to come to his senses. Then maybe a little more to realize what it was worth to insult one of the blood of the dragon.

Angry he scanned through the rest of the book, halting at the other silk ribbon marking a painting of a young couple being wed in front of what looks like the sept of dragonstone, with a bronze and silver dragon behind them. The couple had been young and beautiful with silver-gold gold hair, Jaehaerys and Alysanne, he thought. It was indeed a picture of the first secret wedding of the then young, old King and his sister-wife. He remembered the story briefly, both flew on their mounts to Dragonstone to tie their union in front of the King’s Guards and their dragons. In truth both did it in secret as their parents had wished other matches for them. Alysanne did not agree with her mothers decision and went to her brother at once, on the same night they flew out of the capital. Their wedding was not without controversy as the faith was protesting another union between brother and sister. Yet the protesting septon was being shut by the king threatening him of sewing his mouth shut. Aemond sniggered at this thought, too much would he want to do the same to some irritating people. 

He knew most of the rest of the stories, the conquest, Maegors taking over his weak nephew, Jaehaerys’ long reign with all its tragedies and so on. There was even something written on the Targaryens before the conquest. With the hours he lost himself in the book and fell asleep, with it still open laying next to him. 

That night he had dreams filled with dragons and many silver-gold coloured heads. There was blood and smoke and lots of fire and he twisted in his sleep. As he was inside a torch-lit stable, flashes of blood in the corner of his eye, he woke up as he heard a loud and piercing scream in his ear. His body was trembling and his skin was clammy from all the sweat, it felt as if he was burning, yet he was freezing even beneath thick furs. Deciding against calling the servants the turned around again, he was much too tired than to deal with whatever they would be doing with him in this state. 

Still shivering he fell asleep with the image of resting his head in the lap of a silver-haired girl who gently brushed the hair out of his face while whispering reassuringly. He had lost himself in molten silver and drowned in the thick liquid, it was everywhere around him. Oftentimes had he dreamed the same thing and never was he in any pain. 

Aemond woke up with his mother worryingly bending over him, holding her hand on his forehead. There were maids and servants walking through the room he had not seen before. They carried bowls of hot water, linen cloths and herbal tinctures and pastes. 

“You have the fever, my love. We shall try to keep you warm but you need to rest.” 

He tried to protest but his body hurt even more than it did yesterday and he could not more, leaving him to lay down on his cushions. The Maester had given him a small glass flask he was to drink as well as nettle tea he should be taking once every two hours. The fever would soon get better but he would need to stay in bed. 

Aemond had awakened from another one of his many slumbers during his sickness and saw his mother sleeping on an armchair by the fire. He called her and she rose at once, walking over to his bed. 

“How are you doing?” 

He had to think, the pain he was in was not as severe as it used to be and he also did not feel as weak anymore, yet he did not feel like his old self. 

“Better I suppose.” He smiled at his mother, she should not worry about him. 

Brushing his hair out of his face, his mother sat herself next to him on the bed.

“I have talked with your father. We both agree that you have been too hard on yourself and should spend some time away from court. Your name day will be in less than a moon's turn, as soon as you are well enough we thought about sending you to Dragonstone. Before you can protest-” 

Alicent held her hand in defense, knowing her son well, 

“you will not be alone. Daeron is on his way from Oldtown as well as the King has been in contact with Braavos. Lord Vaenar has agreed to send his sister alongside Magister Nestion to the island as well, he thought it to be a good idea for you both to spend your name day together once more. Especially considering you both have been sick and are in the need of a change of surroundings. Do you agree on this?” 

“How could I disagree to such an offer?” beamed at his mother with all the strength he had left in his weakened body. 

“You need to get well soon then. And remember you will be there on your uncle’s and Rhaenyra’s mercy, so you better behave and look out for your younger brother as well.”

Aemond nodded defiantly, the thought of having to spend time in the place of his whore of a sister and her ugly whelps made him feel sick all over, but the prospect of seeing Vaenya again made it all not matter. 

“Have you read through it?” Alicent pointed at the red leatherbound book of his family's history. 

“Briefly, however I did read the marked pages thoroughly.” 

Alicent nodded at him, “You surely have an interesting family, very daring; disobedient even. Now rest and recover for your voyage to Dragonstone. You shall be a healthy version of yourself there.” 

The Queen kept looking back between him and the book, before she excused herself and left the quarters. Aemond’s headache was pumping and his mind was running fast. First he had to calm himself down before he could make any clear thought. 

Although he was feeling better overall, his body was still freezing and he wrapped the sheets and furs covering him, close around himself. This made him remember how Vaenya used to run cold in her sleep. Even in the warm pentoshi nights, she would curl up under the covers, knees tucked up against her chin, shivering delicately. As he lay beside her, he would warm her with his arms wrung around her. He had always radiated heat and she needed it. Pulling the furs closer, he hoped that Vaenya did not freeze alone in her bed in Braavos. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Aemond being mean and hateful to basically anyone but protective his sister and her children is just *chef's kiss* he is Jaehaera's favourite uncle and we know that. Also later he is forced to attend tea parties hosted by his niece and he is much delighted to be her guest.


End file.
